Traitorous Sticks of Wood
by searching.for.an.absolute
Summary: Rose, Quidditch-challenged bookworm extraordinaire, has loved Scorpius for years. Too bad he doesn't know it. Follow Rose as she tries to make Scorpius finally love her, or at least make it through 7th year without breaking her neck or her PLETE!
1. Chapter 1

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**This is my first Rose/Scorpius story, but I LOVE THIS PAIRING! JKR was so hinting at their marriage: "Don't get _too _friendly with him, Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood." :) **

**Enjoy! Review! JOIN THE REVIEW REVOLUTION! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Harry Potter or Harry Potter. That's JK Rowling's and hers alone. :D**

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"OI! PAY ATTENTION!" Her cousin's loud roar was deafening. Rose cast Al an annoyed look and turned back to him instead of letting her gaze drift off to Al's platinum-haired best friend sitting in the bleachers. Al squints at her through his glasses, and for a moment he resembles Uncle Harry so much Rose laughs.

"What're you laughing at, Squirt?"

"You can't call me that, you're the same age as me!" she says defensively, glad that she had distracted Al from teaching her how to actually not fall off a broom long enough for her to sneak another look at Scorpius, who was looking rather bored as he waited for Al so they could go finish some Potions extra credit project or another.

Stupid cunning good-at-Potions Slytherins.

"ARE YOU MAD?" Al's voice is deafening again. With a frightened gasp, she realizes that she had been sitting absentmindedly on her floating broom moments before, her feet grazing the gorund, and that in her Scorpius Gazing and/or Adoring Time (which she know referred to SGAT because she thought about it so much), the broom had actually had the nerve to float upwards into the air, so that she was now hanging precariously onto a STICK OF WOOD THIRTY FEET UP IN THE AIR!

A small yelp of horror--which she suspected was more like an ear-splitting Banshee shriek--escapes her lips. "ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER IF YOU DON'T BLOODY HELP ME I WILL PAINFULLLY AND SLOWLY CASTRATE YOU AND FORCE YOU TO EAT THE REMAINDERS!" Rose closes her eyes and hangs on to the awfully small handle of wood, hoping that she won't fall to the HARD, HARD ground of the Quidditch pitch, die a slow and painful death (the kind of that Al's man bits will die if he doesn't bloody get up here and bloody help her down), and have to have her funeral held at HOGWARTS because her body had been smashed into fifty billion tiny pieces!

Damn them, Uncle Harry and Dad and Aunt Ginny and Uncle George and all the other crazy male (and Aunt Ginny) relatives Rose has that insist on the annual Potter/Weasley Quidditch Game. At which, last year, she nearly murdered her mother's ancient cat Crookshanks…because she fell off her broom. The stupid cat was only kept alive by all her mother's charms anyways! The stupid thing should have died! Then Dad wouldn't have made her learn how to stay on a broom from bloody Al and his best friend (who were co-captains of the Slytherin team and thus irritatingly brilliant at Quidditch) so that NEXT YEAR she wouldn't murder the stupid cat so that Hermione Weasley wouldn't spend all her time fixing her stupid cat instead of snogging Ronald Weasley. Which…ew…parents snogging passionately, ewwww.

Her mum was the only sane one, really. Not playing Quidditch, in Rose's opinion, made you sane.

"Oi, Weasley." A voice was talking to her! Someone was talking to her! Al had gotten his sorry arse up on his stupid overpriced broom--really, a STICK OF WOOD for TWO THOUSAND GALLEONS? Uncle Harry was loaded and all, but STILL--and come to save her! But wait, why was Al's voice sounding so sexy all of a sudden? And since when did he call her Weasley instead of Rosie Posie, the most annoying nickname of all time?

Rose opens one eye slowly, cringing at the sight of the long, long way down to the ground. She is expecting Al's messy black hair and his toad green eyes (which somehow look SO much better on Great-Aunt Lily in the pictures she's seen), but instead she is greeted with a pair of silvery-blue eyes, the colour of quicksilver, eyes she had so often fantasized about whilst inhaling Amortentia fumes (WAIT! SHE WAS INHALING THAT PARTICULAR AMORTENTIA FUME WITH THE SMELL OF CHOCOLATE/CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE BATTER AND SCORPIUS MALFOY'S COLOGNE RIGHT NOW!)Rose's eyes shot open immediately, and her body jerked. The broom, the little wanker, thought that this was an indication that she would have liked to fly faster and flew off right away…

To crash into said Scorpius Malfoy, who was perched gracefully on his own TWO THOUSAND GALLEONS' WORTH OF STICK OF WOOD and dodged her, gracefully, to the side. He puts a hand on her shoulder as she zoomed past by him, immediately the broom stops.

NIMBUS ONE THOUSAND, YOU BLOODY LITTLE TRAITOR!

His hand feels rather nice on her shoulder, really. It'd feel even better around her waist, so that she could inhale some more of CCCB/SMC (Chocolate/Chocolate chip Cookie Batter/ Scorpius Malfoy's Cologne, AKA Rose Weasley's Amortentia Fume). Oh, wait, he's saying something, something about the proper way to hold the bloody wanker of a stick of wood...

Oh, the blonde Seeker God is screaming at her, but she's not listening because she watching his beautiful face. But his voice is deafening now, like stupid ALBUS POTTER'S had been moments before, BUT HIS SORRY ARSE IS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN. But Rose figured Scorpius Malfoy's rather pleasant and not sorry at all arse is much better. She could castrate Albus Severus Potter later.

"WEASLEY! ARE YOU LISTENING TO A WORD I'M SAYING?"

"Er…no, sorry, I didn't hear that, Blonde Seeker God," she says. Oh, bloody hell, did she say that aloud? She claps an alarmed hand over her mouth, so of course now she is only hanging onto that thin stick of wood with one hand. Immediately she loses her balance and begins to topple over, screaming, forcing Blonde Seeker God to come to her rescue as he dives under and lifts her, rather gently, she might add--feels kind of like he's carrying her, oh, she could get used to this--into an upright position on the broom.

"What did you call me?" Scorpius asks her, a smirk playing over his fine, fine lips. She stares at them for a moment, wondering if she would mind falling to her death if she got to feel those lips against hers before her imminent Death By Falling Off Broomstick.

"Er…bloody wanker?" she mutters. She notices his arm is still around her waist. She catches a great big whiff of Rose Weasley's Amortentia Fume and thinks she might as well have Died by Falling Off Broomstick and gone to heaven.

"Are you…are you sniffing me?" he asks incredulously. He doesn't let go of her waist, though, Rose notes happily. They are now floating awkwardly over the bleachers, two people on two brooms conjoined by his arm around her waist.

"No, I'm not sniffing you," Rose says sharply, wrinkling her nose. "You just smell extraordinarily unpleasant, like Niffler poop--" Niffler poop? Where had that come from? This high altitude thing was getting to her brain. "And I wanted to make sure it wasn't me."

"Right," Scorpius says, looking half-amused, half-confused. "I smell like Niffler poop. Now that we've gotten that cleared up, what exactly did you call me before? Something, I do believe that contained the word God?"  
"Erm…" Rose shifted uncomfortably--she wasn't afraid to because SCORPIUS MALFOY'S ARM WAS AROUND HER, "Uhm…You're the God of Bloody Wankers?"

"I do believe it went something like 'Blonde Seeker God', Rose," Scorpius says, amusement heavy in his voice. A voice that had been kind of high and girly in first and second and third year, scratchy and awkward in fourth and fifth, strangely deep in sixth, and downright manly this year. It made her all shivery.

"Rose," Rose says, caught off-guard. He casts her a strange look.

"Yes, that's your name. Would you like some help with your ABC's, too?" he asks.

"No, that's okay…" Rose says, somewhat dreamily. "Rose…that's the first time you've ever called me Rose."

"Is it?" Scorpius says, his manly man voice rather bored, but she notes with delight that there is some colour creeping into his pale, albeit beautiful, face. She's not so scared anymore of Death By Falling Off Broomstick; Scorpius Malfoy had referred to her by her first name!

"I didn't know that you knew my name at all," Rose tells him in a trance. She is immediately embarrassed, though, and says quickly, "I mean, I'm just the rather awkward, frizzy red-haired bookworm cousin of your best friend."  
It was true. Loathe as she was to admit it, she'd inherited her mother's brains alright; she'd also inherited her mother's bushy hair, rather plain features, total inability to play sports of any kind, and bookworm-esque tendencies. AND her father's blazing fire engine red hair. It wasn't fair that her cousin Lily had gotten Aunt Ginny's rather pretty auburn red hair, her gorgeous features, Aunt Ginny's and Uncle Harry's brilliant magic skills AND Uncle Harry's Seeker abilities…Rose, it seemed, had been royally screwed over by her genes.

Scorpius opens his mouth, then pauses for a moment, as if he is about to say something. The moment is excruciatingly long. "Albus is rather awkward and bookworm-esque, too," he says kindly, obviously trying to be nice about her total lack of cool genes.

Rose rolled her eyes. "And that's why Al goes out with a different girl every week."

"Nah, that's 'cause he's Harry Potter's son. Plus, Al thinks he can avoid the whole Potter Men and Redheads Theory by dating every blonde and/or brunette in existence." Scorpius's arm, to her great delight, is still wound tightly around her waist. He begins to lead their brooms--slowly, thank Merlin--towards the bleachers, which are far closer to them than the ground. "Anyways, I'm sure I've called you Rose before."

"Nope," Rose says surely. "It's always been Weasley, or, Oi! Geek! Pass me a quill!, or You're a disaster, Rosie Posie, I pity whoever Al's gonna have to pay to date you."

Scorpius's expression is difficult to read after she tells him that. Finally, she sees the bleachers are less than a foot below them, and she sighs in relief and relaxes for a moment. "I'm sorry, Rose, that I said all that. I just--I think I--I didn't mean it." And then he pauses for a moment. "Ifundyyew," he mutters under his breath, and for a moment I thought, in my crazed and addled-by-high-altitudes state, that he had said, "I fancy you," and promptly proceed to topple off my broom, missing the bleachers, and instead hurtling towards the ground--which is suddenly so much closer than I thought. Using possibly my last living breath, I scream, "MERLIN'S GREAT WHITE BEARD, I HATE YOU, SCORPIUS MALFOY! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Important plot detail change: Lily Luna Potter is Scorpius's current girlfriend. (In the last chapter, when Rose laments about Lily's brilliant genes, I forgot to add the bit about how Lily was dating Scorpius!! So sorry...I haven't figured out how to change things that have already been published :(--if someone could tell me, that'd be really great!)**

**Anyways, onwards with the story! This is in Scorpius's POV (I haven't settled on how I'm going to change/switch/narrate, but I hope it'll flow well enough I won't have to inform you guys whose POV it is :)! ) **

**Disclaimer: All characters of Harry Potter and the Harry Potter universe are JKRowling's, definitely not mine...i would like to be richer than the queen of england and own a castle of my own, though...**

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Scorpius Malfoy was positive that he had never met anyone clumsier than Rose Weasley. She was hurtling towards the Quidditch Pitch ground and Scorpius was sure that Al would probably murder _him _if he let Al's precious cousin even break a sweat. Scorpius dived downwards on his own broom, speeding towards the mass of blaring red that was Weasley's hair. Had he really never called her _Rose_ before_? _He felt a little guilty for calling her names and such when they'd been younger—all the Weasleys and Potters had always teased Rose for being so like her mother, and Scorpius had done what they had. He hadn't wanted to stick out anymore than he already did in a crowd of Potters and Weasleys.

He heard a distant scream that was most definitely Rose's loud, rule-announcing voice. "_Merlin's great white beard, I hate you, Scorpius Malfoy! What in the bloody hell did you just say?"_

What did he just say? What _did he just say? _Scorpius had been trying to cast that stupid Cushioning Charm that Flitwick had been trying to teach him since Fourth Year, because he'd _known _that Rose Weasley would never come down from a mishap like this completely uninjured. He wasn't lucky enough for that. He'd just thought maybe she'd go flying into the bleachers, so he'd cushion them a bit. The spell was _Infundio,_ and it was the one dumb charm he couldn't perform exceptionally well. It had been three years since the Great Pillow Outbreak that Al would never give him a break about—so maybe Scorpius had a slightly more to do with the five thousand pillows bursting out of his own wand in the Charms classroom than he said—but he still couldn't get the charm right. But the minute he'd said the stupid charm, Rose had fallen off her broom like his words had knocked her right off it.

Scorpius was still flying dizzyingly fast towards Rose's blurred image, and like he so often did in games, he reached out for the object he was seeking—instead of a snitch, it was _Rose Weasley_—and grabbed her, pulling her onto his broom. She was screaming so loud he was sure that he'd need to see Madam Pomfrey about his hearing afterwards.

He wrapped an arm around her waist again, steering with one hand and ensuring that she wasn't going to tumble off his broom with the other. She was, he noted, surprised, much slimmer than he remembered, with curves in all the right places. Suddenly he had a flashback of the chubby red-haired eleven-year-old he'd first met at the Potters' cottage the summer after First Year. Al had invited Scorpius to spend the summer with them; he'd been busy trying to please Harry and Ginny Potter and Ron and Hermione Weasley so they wouldn't kick him out of the house the moment they heard his last name. He'd been too busy to take too much notice of the rule-abiding, boring, smart, incurable know-it-all that was Rose Weasley.

Ron Weasley, Scorpius thought amusedly, had been pleased that Scorpius hadn't wanted to seduce Rose. All the years Draco Malfoy had spent trying to make up for the wrongs he'd committed in his darkest years, all the good deeds and the countless goodwill missions he'd funded with the paltry leftovers of the Malfoy fortune, had been nothing in Ron Weasley's eyes compared to Scorpius's being uninterested in his baby girl. (And of course, having Rose beat Scorpius in every subject was satisfying to Ron—but then again, Scorpius had never dreamt of telling Rose or her family that he had consistently done better than her in Potions and Charms since First Year. He liked being alive too much for that.)

Rose was now leaning against him, having traded making him deaf for gripping his hand so tight he couldn't feel it anymore. She smelt like lilacs and something he couldn't describe, but he was sure he'd smelled it many, many times before. She smelled…inanely, insanely good, he realized slowly. Much better than his girlfriend of nine months, Lily Potter, he thought, and then he shoved the renegade thought out of his head. (He also liked being alive too much too inform Lily and _her _family that he was having such thoughts about Rose.)

Harry Potter had never hated Scorpius's father quite as much as Ron. But after Lily had danced home with Scorpius in tow one year, announcing that she and Scorpius were deliriously happy together, Scorpius had met personally the terrifyingly powerful Harry Potter that had killed Voldemort, with the Elder Wand by his side. It was rumoured that the one time Mr. Potter had used the wand since Voldemort's death was to threaten Scorpius about hurting Lily.

Many of his friends—Albus Potter included—had told him he was an idiot to even touch Lily. Actually, Al had joined his family's side whilst threatening Scorpius about his untimely death should he ever make Lily shed a tear.

Scorpius didn't really know why he'd started dating Lily. It'd just sort of happened—she was his best friend's sister, she'd always been beautiful and he'd always been aware of that. She was so beautiful, with dark, shiny auburn hair and features that were always in perfect harmony with one another. She was graceful and incredible at Quidditch—she'd beaten Scorpius to the snitch many a time in a Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match, she was popular and funny, and skilled with her wand. She was Hogwarts' golden girl, and she was Harry Potter's only daughter. Scorpius wasn't too bad-looking himself, and brilliant at Quidditch. Though his father had once been a disgrace, Draco had clawed his way back into the Wizarding World's good graces after years of hard work and his momentous marriage to former Hufflepuff and do-gooder Astoria Greengrass. Scorpius was very much like Lily, skilled at magic without having to study, admired and as popular with the girls as Al and James Potter.

It seemed like a match made in that thing that Muggles called heaven, the match between him and Lily Potter.

It was too bad that Scorpius was well-aware of Lily's late-night "wanderings" with various other boys. It was too bad that Scorpius was well-aware of Lily's slightly spoiled, cynical nature; too bad that lately, Scorpius couldn't seem to bring himself to be excited at the prospect of seeing her.

At the beginning of their relationship, his feelings for her had burned brightly, blindingly so; now it was like there wasn't anything left to fuel those feelings. Lily had never been too keen on seeing him and him exclusively anyways, despite what she may have told the male members of her extensive family.

And there was the slight issue that right now, he wanted to hold Rose Weasley, Lily's formerly chubby and still bookworm-ish cousin, more than he wanted Lily. Rose had always hung around him and Al, a sort of sisterly figure to him; they'd been in the same year, they'd been intellectually challenging to one another, and they shared the same kind of awkward humour. Eventually they had become close friends. There had always been a kind of competitive rapport between the three of them; Scorpius recalled, with a wry smile, the early days of their "rapport", when really he and Rose had gone round screaming insults at each other while trying to receive better grades. Scorpius and Al had eventually learned that being transparently obsessed with your grades did not make for many female admirers and stopped being so obvious; Al and Scorpius had learnt to be charming (also known as "shamelessly flattering"), they had filled out their lanky frames and grown into their features. They'd changed.

As Scorpius's feet finally made contact with the Quidditch Pitch ground, he realized for the first time that Rose had also changed drastically. Not only was she learning to actually _fly _a broom (the feat in itself was gasp-worthy, even if her father had forced Al and Scorpius to teach her), her own features had straightened out a bit, so that now the her formerly huge brown eyes were balanced out by the curve of her full lips, and so that the freckles that laid on her sun-kissed skin no longer seemed dorky, but kind of distracting in a not-so-sisterly way.

She'd filled out her own small frame with curves that were distracting him in the same non-sisterly way. And when she finally turned around to talk to him, the shaky smile that she flashed him knocked the breath from him.

Scorpius then had his actual breath knocked out when someone's hand slapped him against the back very, very hard. He coughed then turned to look at a smirking Albus Potter, whom Scorpius would have liked very much to punch upside the head—

"_Albus Severus Potter! Your man bits are about to die a slow and painful death, and I can promise you, I am bloody going to follow up on that threat about making you eat them!" _Rose got to Al first, screaming threats as she slid off of Scorpius's broom. Scorpius smirked at her threats—so maybe Rose hadn't changed _that _much. She was still the same old Rosie Posie, with her lightning-quick temper, her perpetual habit of taking things far too seriously and the way that she was unintentionally the most hilarious thing he'd ever seen.

Al looked frightened for a moment. "Uh, Rose—calm down, Score saved you, didn't he?"

"Not before I _bloody fell off the bloody wanker of a stick of wood—a stick of wood you promised me was safe! _POTTER, _you are going down! _Uncle Harry is going to hear about this, Al, and blast Merlin if I don't twist all the details _just a little _so that you're grounded until you're seventy—and _you!" _Rose rounded on him so suddenly he held his hands up for mercy. Her eyes narrowed. "What the _bloody _hell did you say before the bloody wanker of a stick of wood threw me off?"

Scorpius sneaks a glance at Al; he doesn't dare point out to Rose that she fell off the broom herself. Al is looking about as pale as Scorpius by now, clearly contemplating the likelihood that he'll be grounded until he's seventy for leaving his hopelessly anti-athletic cousin thirty feet up in the air by herself. "Well?" Rose demands. "What was it?"

"_Infundio, _I said _Infundio," _Scorpius says meekly, and his wand gives a weak little jerk before a feather shoots out of its end.

For some inexplicable reason, the anger in Rose's expression dissipates rapidly, being replaced with a sad, disappointed kind of look that made Scorpius feel rather guilty, for no reason. A strange pang of emotion hits Scorpius square in the chest, like someone had socked him one.

"You said _Infundio?" _Rose repeats, and her voice resonates with a hurt quality.

Scorpius nods, unable to understand why she seems so upset all of a sudden. What did she think he'd said? Al has a confused look upon his face, too, and sends Scorpius a look that clearly says, "_Merlin, women are crazy." _

Rose lets out a laugh, but after many years of being in the same classes and being good friends, he knows it's a faked, forced laugh. The sound grates against his nerves, as if telling him something is very, very wrong. "You still can't get that spell right, Malfoy?" she asks him derisively, her eyes hardening before his. Something is wrong, his instincts scream—he's never seen Rose's eyes harden like so, turning into a shade of icy blue rather than their usual warm sapphire. She pulls out her wand—but not before Scorpius catches sight of her hand shake just a little—and mutters, "_Infundio." _The ground beneath his feet is instantly soft, like foam, and a feather lands just on top of his feet. She's performed the charm perfectly and knows it. She raises her eyebrows, as if taunting him about his lack of ability, and then stalks away. He can see her fist closed tightly around her wand and the angry red sparks that shoot out of its end.

Scorpius turns to Al, who stares after his cousin, his mouth hanging down like an ape's. After a moment, he asked, "What the hell happened? You'd better tell me _now _why my manhood is now in mortal peril, Scorpius Malfoy."


	3. Chapter 3

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**A/N: I just realized there such magical things called betas, who will actually read your work no matter how crappy and proofread it. :) It's a shame I don't have one, though, so if my works are gramatically incorrect/horrendously boring...there's the explanation. (That, and maybe I'm just not cut out for writing, as my English teachers always tell me...xD I do it anyways.) **

**Onwards with the story! I'm working on an actual scene with Lily and good ol' Score, but the chemistry between him and Rosie Posie needs some tweaking. :D **

**Please review, everyone!! Then I can have lots of**** pseudo-betas. :D **

**Disclaimer: I absolutely do not own Harry Potter or anything affliated with it. I want to, though, probably almost as much as I want Jasper and Edward and Carlisle. *teehee***

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He'd said _Infundio._ That dumb Cushioning Charm, the one damned spell he couldn't get right—memories of how cute he'd looked with feathers all over him accosted her. A brief smile danced over her lips.

Of course he'd said _Infundio. _How could she have believed that he'd said _I fancy you? _She'd seen Lily, and she'd seen herself. She couldn't even be compared to her beautiful cousin. What had happened to all those genes they were supposed to share?

The stupidity of it all rang in her head. She had turned from Al and Scorpius, run from them, not wanting them to see the hurt and the resentment coursing through her. She'd tried to put on a brave front, a cold one; she didn't want anyone to see how hurt she was.

Wait. She wasn't _hurt. _

She was _mad. _

Damn Scorpius and his messy blonde locks and damn her Amortentia fumes! Maybe all those Eyes of Newt she'd thrown in there had addled her brain! Damn Al and him ditching her up in the air—where the _hell _had he gone anyways? She'd deal with his man bits, she would, he could forget about having children! Damn Lily and her beauty and her smarts and her popularity—

Now she was just bitter.

Rose sighed heavily as she wandered towards the Great Lake, looking for solace and sympathy and a companion. She sat down next to the bank of the Lake, and she dipped her feet into the cool September water. When she had been young, in the summers at the Potters' Cottage, she used to splash in the water with Al and Scorpius—but she had always been afraid to do things like dive or somersault into the water. Lily, on the other hand, had always preferred sunbathing or occasionally diving into the water in a graceful arc.

It had been the summer of third year when Rose had realized that Lily was prettier than she was; it was the summer of fifth year when she'd realized that boys never looked at her the way they looked at Lily. She'd seen her cousin Victoire and pseudo-cousin Teddy get married; she'd seen the way Teddy looked at Victoire. It was a hungry, intimate look.

It was the one every boy outside their family looked at Lily. Boys looked at Rose with respect, disdain, or friendly humour. Sometimes, Rose wondered what it must feel like, to feel that hungry gaze on her. To feel lovely and beautiful. There had only ever been one boy who'd told her she was beautiful, and he was her _father!_

Rose shook her head, frustrated, and kicked the water as hard as she could. She didn't want to feel like this. She wanted to feel in control—she was _fine _with being a control freak! She was _positively fine _with that, no matter what Al and Fred and James and all her other stupid male (and Aunt Ginny and Aunt Angelina, not to offend anybody) Quidditch-playing relatives said! It hadn't occurred to her that the Giant Squid would be mad about her disrupting its peace—it spend a giant splash of water rocketing back at her, soaking her right away.

Spluttering in the water, she lost her temper. She was, she finally concluded, hurt and angry _and _bitter.

Now, all that, plus Rose Weasley's normal temper, guaranteed a blow-up of epic proportions. Epic, absolutely epic.

"STUPID SQUID! STUPID BLOODY SQUID, SPLASHING BLOODY WATER AT ME, I'M BLOODY MISERABLE, CAN'T YOU SEE? I'M NOT _JUST _MISERABLE, I'M HEARTBROKEN TOO, CAN'T YOU JUST GIVE ME A BREAK?" she screamed, annoyed. It didn't occur to her that she was having a row with an animal. Really, it didn't. Didn't occur to her that the Squid _couldn't _see that she was miserable, that she was being quite mean. She pulled out her wand, and screeched, "_Aguamenti!" _A huge wave of water crashed from her wand, meeting the surface of the lake with a terrific roar.

Rose shed her soaked robe, standing in her white blouse and her skirt. Her Head Girl badge had been carelessly tossed down with her robe; all she wanted was a way to feel better and the badge could go and burn in a corner for all she cared right now. She wove her wand up and down in the air, finishing a complex spell that brought about a tidal wave to the lake. The water seemed to combust, as if someone had placed a great big Muggle bomb contraption in the centre and lit it on fire. (Rose was too angry to bother pointing out, even to herself, that one just can't light a Muggle bomb contraption on fire in water.)

"_Take that, you bloody squid!" _Rose hadn't realized until now there were tears streaming down her cheeks, warm and pathetic, streaming, streaming, and melding with the water trickling from her drenched hair. Rose was freezing cold, it was getting dark, and she was all alone, crying by the Lake…

Rose picked up her robes numbly, stumbling towards the castle. All she wanted was a hot shower and her bed; all she wanted was Scorpius's arms around her and his warmth…

She stuck her wand haphazardly behind her ear, walking slowly towards the doors. Suddenly, they burst open. Rose stumbled backwards a few steps, blinking at the tall figure now striding towards her.

McGonagall's stern expression came into view. This was a woman who still terrified the crap out of her father and Uncle Harry—but Rose, being Hermione's daughter and all, had always gotten along rather well with her Headmistress.

"Ms. Weasley, what in Merlin's good name are you doing?" McGonagall's voice was shocked. She had known Rose since before she was _Rose, _back when she'd been a nameless baby, and even then Rose had probably been rule-abiding. "I believe the Giant Squid doesn't appreciate visitors disrupting its quiet. That wave you made—albeit impressive magic, Rose," Rose could have sworn she saw the Headmistress hide a smile, "Was enough to scare the wits out of the First Years. Fifty points from Gryffindor. Because you are Head Girl, I trust that you must be under enormous…personal stresses to act in such a rash manner, and I won't be giving you detention, but your parents are hearing about this, Ms. Weasley."

Rose nodded numbly, not willing to say anything. _Personal stresses? What personal stresses? I'm not stressed out, not at all, Merlin! The bloody squid splashed me first! _Rose was dying to say it, to say that she hadn't acted rashly at _all; _she'd only been giving the stupid squid what it deserved.

But, alas, McGonagall was probably much too sane to believe her. Likewise, her parents were probably also too sane…although her father might congratulate her for finally accomplishing her first misdeed.

"Now, Ms. Weasley. Please head back to the Head Towers before you catch cold."

Rose nodded at her professor, muttered a quiet thank-you, and scurried towards the warmth that was waiting for her at the Head Tower. She was so cold, and the Tower was on the other side of the castle… Rose ran, all the while trying to find her wand…where the bloody hell was it? "_Damn wand," _she muttered, "Where did it go, where did it go?" She was shivering by now—she would have _dried _herself if she could find that bloody _wand. _

"Rose?"

Her blood froze in her veins; Rose's shoulders stiffened instantly. _Please don't let it be him, please, please, please, please, please, please…I will actually learn to fly! I won't make fun of Al and his fear of redheaded girls! I won't be jealous of Lily, I won't be mad at Dad when he embarrasses me! I will actually practice Quidditch! I'll be good…hell, I _am _good! _

"Rose!" Scorpius's voice was right behind her. She spun round, trying to look presentable. Self-consciously, she wrapped her arms around herself. White clothing, as Lily had proved this summer at the cottage, was quite see-through when wet. She, unlike Lily, wasn't much to look at.

"Uh, hi, Score," she murmured. He was looking at her weird, his gaze travelling up and down her, as if he was trying to figure something out. He looked utterly confused, but she feels something funny at the pit of her stomach. It was the way he was looking at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time; as if he'd just opened his eyes to something. _Oh, God, maybe he hadn't realized how big the difference between Lily and me is before, but now he knows..._she groaned inwardly. She gestured awkwardly. "Uh…I'm looking for my wand," she said sheepishly.

Score is gaping, his mouth hanging open like James's does when he sees Aunt Ginny use her Bat-Boogey Hex. Does Rose look disastrous enough to ellict _that _look? Stupid Squid, maybe it'd squirted some ink at her too… Scorpius's hand is zoning in on her head, Rose realizes with a jolt. She watches it from the corner of her eye—is he going to that whole cupping-her-cheek thing that she's always thought was so sweet in Muggle stories? _Overactive imagination, overactive imagination...stop it! _Her heart still beats a little faster at the thought.

"Uh, Rose? Your wand's…right here" he's saying apprehensively, and his hand is definitely _not _on her cheek. She whips her hand towards his hand.

He's holding her wand, which he has plucked from behind her ear. Her traitor wand had been hiding behind her ear, _out of her line of sight_, bloody stick of wood.

Rose was going to start a new theory (after all, it'd been her who'd come up with the Potter Men and Redheads theory). It went like this: All Sticks of Wood Bloody Hate Rose Weasley. (Said sticks include wands, broomsticks, and other seemingly harmless and HELPFUL Wizarding instruments that bloody hate her, and only her.)

"Are you feeling okay, Rose?" He's taken to calling her Rose now. Just her name, no silly frills or teasing tone. Just her name. It sounded so plain, so very…lacking. Lacking in what, she didn't know, but it sounded lacking.

"I'm fine, Score, thanks."

He's looking at her like he obviously doesn't believe her. "D'you want me to take you to the Hospital Wing? Or your dorm?"

It seems everybody's thinking the same thing when they see Rose Weasley lately; "she's completely insane". Rose is standing stock-still, trying to figure out how to get out this with as much dignity as possible. She doesn't notice that Scorpius is trying her robes for her until she feels the warm steam from his wand against her skin. She blinks.

"You looked cold," he says apologetically. Ironically, she shivers when she realizes how close--and how warm--he is to her. "Al's already pissed about me putting his, uh, man bits, in danger, and if you get sick on my watch he'll probably put mine in worse peril."

_On his watch? _What was she, some unruly two-year-old who needed babysitting? Some insane mental ward who thought wooden sticks hated her? No. Absolutely not. Still, she had to admit, it was nice of him to help her. "Thanks," she said gratefully as she finally felt her fingers again. He hands her wand silently. His hand brushes against her a little, and she feels her something in her stomach flutter.

He gives her a strange smile; it's one she's never seen before. His smiles are usually warm and full of mischievous delight, or strained when he is worried, but now his smile is sad and confused. "Are you gonna be okay?" he asks her tentatively, as if he doesn't know if _he'll _be okay, and he starts to walk towards the Head Tower, seemingly having decided to take her to her dorm.

She doesn't have a clue how to answer him.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: For everyone wondering how the heck I'm actually going to advance the plot, this chapter is for you. :) Plus, I kinda wanted to be in Al and Scorpius's dorm at three in the morning. **

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and All Affliated Material = Not Mine, whereas My Awesome Imaginary Friends = Totally Mine. **

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"Wake _up, _you git!" Someone's fist collides with the side of Scorpius's head. Blearily groaning, he gropes around for his wand, all the while telling whoever it is to stuff it.

"Oi, Scorpius Malfoy!" It's Al's voice. It's his irritating voice that women find _so _enchanting. Scorpius aims his wand at Al, warning him to get away. "You planning on hexing yourself?" Al says, and with a moan Scorpius realizes he has his wand pointed in the wrong direction. _Bloody hell, I'm an idiot…_Finally shoving himself upwards, he forms a weak fist with his left hand and attempts to hit Al, but misses miserably.

"Mate, you were muttering something about one of my female relatives having…_boobies, _as you so eloquently put it," Al is snickering. Then his tone turns serious. "The _wrong_ female relative of mine, too, if you get what I mean," Al's face finally comes into focus. He's scowling, brows pulled low over his green eyes.

Scorpius fights the urge to stuff a pillow in his friend's face. He feels embarrassment flaming at him—his annoying habit of muttering in his sleep had proved itself most infuriating, again. Before, it had been petty things—plans to pull a prank on Al, or to steal the Marauder's Map from James, or even mumbling dirty things about Lily, those things were petty.

But Scorpius closed his eyes and remembered his rather vivid dream, involving him, Rose in her soaked uniform, and the Room of Requirement turned into _precisely _what they'd needed…Merlin, had he really called them _boobies? _How…juvenile. Scorpius groans. What else had he said?

It really wasn't his fault. It was all Rose Weasley's fault, for growing them in the first place. Merlin, they were beautiful... Really, it'd taken him way too long to notice that Rose was _quite _curvy. Al was only immune because he was her cousin! Plus, it was _her _fault for walking around like that yesterday; white shirt pasted to her skin like…like it wasn't bloody there! She was lucky he was the one who found her and not some pervy cretin…

He was feeling kind of life a pervy cretin, actually. Rose was his friend. Had been for years. He had a girlfriend. Had had one for a while. So what if his girlfriend was off snogging some sixth year Ravenclaw, and so what if he was having…rather…graphic dreams about his friend?

Scorpius blinks and realizes that Al is still scowling heavily at him. "Do I need to remind you about my father, Malfoy?" Al asks. "My father, who has the entire Auror division at his beck and call, and the Elder Wand—and my mother and _her _wand," Al cringes a bit, probably at the last time Ginny Potter had hexed someone, "So do I really need to remind you?"

Scorpius had really liked living. He really did, but he could say goodbye to it all now. Goodbye world, goodbye Butterbeer and Quidditch and Rose Weasley's bloody beautiful features…

How had he missed them, anyways? Maybe it was because her head was always buried in a book twice her size, or maybe because a lot of the time she was bloody insane. Or maybe it was because he, like so many others, was blinded by superficial things.

Lately, Rose had taken to avoiding him more and more, distancing herself in the quiet Head Tower that she shared with Lorcan Scamander. And at first he hadn't noticed too much, but now, a month into the term, he was starting to feel her absence…

"OI, MALFOY? YOU LISTENING?" Al was point his wand in Scorpius's face now.

Scorpius raises his hands. "I heard you, Al. Calm down."

Al's eyes were green slits now. "Listen, Score. I like you and everything, but I told you—if you hurt my little sister, _every single member of my family will want your blood, _more than Uncle Ron already does."

Scorpius, who was really rather sick of the entire Potter/Weasley clan protecting Lily like she was some newborn fawn when she was really quite the master at deceit, raises a doubting eyebrow. "Don't you know your sister at all, Al? Don't you know I couldn't hurt her if I tried?"

But _Rose_ was an entirely different matter. Even though she'd probably murder him if he ever told her so, he thought Rose needed her family's protection more than she needed their constant teasing. His thoughts were all straying to her tonight, her blaring hair that was ten shades brighter than Lily's, the warm brown eyes that would sparkle with suppressed amusement when he and Al got themselves into detention time and time again—he hadn't seen that familiar sparkle in a long time.

Al relaxed a bit, and he took his wand out of Scorpius's face. "Mate, I know Lily's…a handful. I know…you went looking for her the other night, didn't you?" Al asks Scorpius.

He hates to admit it, but he did go looking for Lily the other night. He needed to talk to Lily what exactly they were doing, now that she was more interested in a lot more than just him. He hadn't thought he'd find her with Lorcan Scamander, of all people, in a heated argument that was more hexes and swear words being tossed than an argument. At the sight of Scorpius, Lorcan had sent a glare Lily's way and left.

Lily had run off in tears, telling him to leave her the hell alone. He had figured out not long ago that when a woman told you to leave her alone like that, you _left her alone._

Al is looking at Scorpius with concern now. "Listen, mate, Lils decided she's too young to…date exclusively." Al seems to be searching for the right words. "I know I don't really need to protect Lily that much. I know she's bloody powerful when she wants, and she probably does the Bat-Boogey better than my mother, it's just…you know. She's the youngest in the family, and god knows there hasn't been a girl in the Potter line since…really, I don't even know, and my mother's the first daughter born in generations, and we love Lils so much, we hate to think about the idea of some unknown man coming around to take her away."

Scorpius knows he should be defending himself, saying something about how he's not a random man who's come to steal Lily—because really, he isn't—but all he can think about is Rose. He wants to shout, _And what about Rose, Al? What about Rose, who's been our best friend since First Year? While you're all so busy standing up for Lily, who doesn't need it at all, what about Rose, who…_

"To be honest, I don't think you need to worry about Lily so much," Scorpius says diplomatically. Or, at least, as diplomatic as he can be at 3:33 in the morning. The other two boys that they share their dorm with are going to be chucking brooms or boxers or just hexes in their direction soon. Al rolls his eyes.

"Have you seen the way blokes look at her?" Al demands. "We're blokes, we know what they're thinking. Really, it should bug you more than it bugs me."

But it doesn't bother Scorpius at all, the way that men look at Lily; she's beautiful and she knows it, and she likes the attention. At first, he'd figured he wasn't the jealous type. He'd had girlfriends before, ones who always came with their own pack of admirers, but he'd never felt the streak of jealousy that he'd always expected to feel.

"But it doesn't bother you at all, does it?" Al's eyes were wide. He seemed to have realized something, and a smug smirk worked its way across his face. "It doesn't bother you one bit that Lily's off right now—don't think I don't know—with that Ravenclaw idiot."

Scorpius shrugs. What the hell does he think he knows? "I'm trying not to be overbearing."

"Yeah, right," Al snorts. Scorpius would have liked to wipe the smug smirk off his face. "What if I told you _Rose _and her _boobies _were off snogging Lorcan Scamander right this moment?"

The mental image of it is seared into his mind's eye. Rose, who in his head is still in her soaked uniform from last night, and Lorcan Scamander, the blue-eyed bastard, in their cozy private dorm, getting way friendlier than he would have liked—

A brief of flash of fury ignites—then Scorpius realizes that Al was provoking him. Scorpius rolls his eyes, trying to act nonchalant. "Why would I _care, _Al? I think you heard me wrong, I was _sleeping,_ having a perfectly pleasant dream about winning the House Cup, not a sick dream about your cousin; it wouldn't be the first time you got something wrong in that thick head of yours…"

Al raises his eyebrows. "Yeah, right, Score. I'm serious about Scamander putting the moves on Rose. Been asking me all sorts of weird stuff about Rose—favourite flowers, candies, all the good stuff—I reckon he's planning to make his move soon…"

Scorpius's first thought involved a well-aimed _Sectumsempra _at the rather irritating Head Boy. Come to think of it, there had been more than one occasion on which Lorcan Scamander was a bigoted prick, maybe nobody would mind…Scorpius narrowed his eyes at Al, trying to return to his former state of nonchalance. He didn't like Rose _that _way, he was just…distracted by the realization that she was no longer the chubby little girl that had been imprinted in his memory until now. And he would only be looking for out her best interests, since her family all thought her to be _so _responsible that she'd didn't need someone to look out for her!

It was an older-brother kind of thing.

Since she only had annoying cousins and a younger brother.

Yes, Scorpius decided, he was like an older brother to Rose, always had been—and that gave him the right to smash Scamander's nose, didn't it?

He thought so.

**A/N: If anyone is bewildered by the Lily/Lorcan argument, I'm planning on writing a few other stories using the backstories from this one; the Potter Men and Redheads theory will be further exploited (and found to be a Universal Theory when it comes to Potters, I think) by Al, and Lily will being learning some tough lessons about love and family and perhaps popularity...and I think I'll be writing a small scene with James's wedding just to prove the Redhead Theory to Al. :D **


	5. Chapter 5

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A/N: :) I hope you enjoy. Please review! Join the Review Revolution.

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all affliated material do not belong to me, they belong to JK Rowling, and I'm not makin' any dough off of this. **

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The sun was rising over the Head Tower when Rose awoke on an armchair in the Common Room, scattering rays of light over her blurry memories of the night before. She had been so angry, so frustrated, but somewhere during the night she'd realized that she had to _move _on.

It was Scorpius who'd dragged her back here last night. She'd refused to go any further than the Common Room, so Score had left her here with a blanket and a worried look. If she had been Lily, what would he have done? If she was anyone but her?

Everybody thought she was so sensible, so responsible, incapable, even, of getting into trouble at all. They thought, _oh, she's Rose, she's so reliable, so pulled together she doesn't need anyone to hold her together. Ha, _she thought, _bet no one ever realized I'd be the one to have a breakdown and attack the Giant Squid. _

Sighing, Rose wrapped the blanket around her. It turned out to be Scorpius's robe, with the silver and emerald crest of Slytherin embossed over the heart, and his smell—and her Amortentia fumes—all over it.

For the first time in years, the achingly familiar smell didn't make her smile. Instead, she only felt the longing to be so much more than she'd ever been, the need to prove to them—Scorpius, her family, the general population of the school—that she was _more _than the unpopular bookworm they'd all pegged her to be.

Rose needed to get over this debilitating silly crush on Scorpius Malfoy. She could get over that! If she could _fully _get over the fact that her genetic code and nature and evolution had screwed her over and turned her into the _one _girl in her family who wasn't beautiful or popular or Merlin knows what else—she was _so _over that—then she could definitely get over Scorpius.

All she needed was a boyfriend.

Exactly, then, how does one _get _a boyfriend? Rose pondered this question. Boys like food, and Quidditch, and fun, and girls. They _like _girls! She was a girl! Wasn't that enough?

Fine. They like girls who are pretty, preferably with a…developed chest. She glanced down critically. She was okay in the body category, she surmised; somewhere between Third and Fifth Year, it was like all the chubbiness that used to plague her had decided to plague her chest instead, and one day she'd woken up and her hips had been wider than her newly _small_ waist. Rose pictured herself in mind's eye. Her hair was frizzy and red, and her eyes were a plain, plain brown; her button nose was a smidgeon too small for her face, and her lips were puffy and _plain. _Could she, too, make herself pretty with all those products on Lily's counter?

Maybe not _pretty; _maybe better than _plain. _Now, if only she could figure out how to play Quidditch.

And Merlin, she kind of knew how to be…fun? _Fun _entails…Rose recalled a particularly loud party that Lily had thrown one year…everybody had talked about for ages when it had ended, calling it the best time of their lives, so much fun…

All anyone had done was drink, and have sex. Was that what was _fun? _Then Rose _so _knew how to be fun.

For one, she knew perfectly well how to get drunk. It can't take more than some alcohol and some willpower to lose control and act like an idiot, right?

And she knew how to have sex, thank you very much to Muggle science textbooks. She'd memorized all the technical terms, too—too bad everyone looked at her like she was loony when she said anything remotely related to sex now.

She was all set, wasn't she? All she had to do…was…was…her mind was drawing a blank. Exactly what actions did she have to take? Maybe she'd wear some of those low-cut blouses and the skirts Lily had bought her the year before, the ones Rose had stuffed to the bottom of her trunk, too lazy to bother with clothes when she had homework to do. Maybe she'd try that. Her mother still ordered a shipload of Muggle magazines, there were a few fashion ones; Rose would dig one up and buy some clothes with the money she'd made last summer tutoring First Years over the summer.

She could get herself a boyfriend who wouldn't treat her like a sister or just a friend. She could get a perfect score McGonagall's insane back-to-school Seventh Year test; this should be a piece of cake.

Resolutely making up her mind, Rose threw Scorpius's robe off. Though she instantly felt coldness creep across her skin, she refused to pull it back on. She'd give it back at breakfast, and she'd make it clear that something was different about her now.

She was kind of scared; she'd never thought that this was what it would come to. But she didn't want to spend more time pining for a boy who'd never looked at her as anything but "Homework Help" or "Rosie Posie", and she didn't want to wallow around in self-pity. Rose took a deep breath, trying to steady herself; she closed her eyes, trying to envision her uncertain future.

When she opened them again, Lorcan Scamander was standing before her, Head Boy badge gleaming in the early sunlight, watching her with an unreadable expression. Lorcan was an old family friend; he and his brother, Lysander, were undoubtedly the most popular twins to hit the school since Uncle George and Uncle Fred.

Lorcan was in Ravenclaw; he was brilliant and talented, a natural-born leader. He was Head Boy, whereas his brother Lysander was Ravenclaw Quidditch captain. With their mother's fair blonde hair and their father's outrageous good looks, many a First Year girl had fainted at the sight of them.

Rose, who had never really harboured any feelings other than admiration for Lorcan or Lysander—mainly because of the aforementioned debilitating crush on Scorpius—blinked in surprise when Lorcan touched her arm gently and asked, "Hey, are you okay?"

They'd been sharing the dorm for a month now, and this was the first time he'd said anything but "Hello," or "Good morning/evening/night" to her. He was kind and polite to her, and he did his duties as Head Boy with her, but she wasn't the type that Lorcan Scamander would hang around. That was more Lily's domain. She nodded numbly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He only looked more concerned. She wondered dimly where this was all coming from; Lorcan had never shown any interest in her well-being before. He gave her a charming smile, one he'd probably used on a thousand other girls before her; it was perfect, gleaming. He leaned in so close she could see the dark blue specks at the centre of his eyes, and he said, "You sure?"

His breath smelled like peppermint. Scorpius's always smelled like bubblegum. That was a step up, wasn't it? Lorcan was standing so close she could feel the heat emanating from him. She blinked as a strange thought occurred to her.

Was Lorcan Scamander _flirting _with her?

Is that what he was doing, up at six in the morning, pressed up against her with his perfect smile plastered across his disturbingly perfect face? Rose felt a little spurt of happiness burst through her; if it was true that _Lorcan _was flirting with her, maybe she wasn't so hopeless after all.

"I…" _Quick, Rose! Use that big brain to come up with something flirty! Flirty! Flirty! Not stupid or smartass or awkward…_

That was, she supposed, asking too much of her brain. "I…Uh…Are you flirting with me?" Rose blurted out loudly. Horrified, she clapped a hand over her mouth, reciting curse words in her head. This time, there was no stupid bloody stick of wood to blame for her idiocy; just her dumb brain that everybody _else _thought was functioning properly… Dammit! Rose's gaze scanned the room for an unsuspecting stick of wood she could blame for her misfortunes…

Meanwhile, Lorcan had laughed a little at her question. Her gaze returned to his, and he said, steadily, slowly, deliberately, "Do you want me to be?"

She really wished had had some more intelligent than "Uh…" to say, but at the moment, she didn't. Did she want him to be flirting with her? She wanted a boyfriend, didn't she? She needed to figure out how to flirt, how to play Quidditch, how to talk sexy without using words like "fallopian tube"…who better than Lorcan, resident popular Head Boy with more ex-girlfriends than she had crazy awkward comments? Besides, she kind of liked feeling this way, feeling _wanted _for something other than homework editing.

"Bloody hell, yes," the words escaped Rose's lips before she could take out the curse words or the desperate tone.

She didn't see what was coming; she truly didn't. Maybe she was too inexperienced, or maybe Lorcan was too practiced; Rose didn't know that he'd planned to kiss her until his lips were against hers.

He was good, very good; all that practice must have paid off, because Rose could have sworn all the blood rushed to her head as her heart pounded in her ears. But as far as first kisses go, she didn't feel the dizziness or the joy or anything she'd so often heard about from her family and from her friends. While it was true Rose didn't have too many friends, the ones she had were good ones; Al, and Scorpius, another quiet redhead named Aurora Wellington—it was quite a miracle that Aurora wasn't related to the Weasleys—and maybe one or two others.

The fact that Rose was thinking about her friends at a time like this, when Lorcan Scamander was caught in a lip-lock with her, signalled that it was going to be one hell of a battle to get over Scorpius.

Lorcan was gentle and insistent, though, and she found herself leaning into the kiss, wishing she could feel everything she was supposed to feel. His arms wound around her waist; he smelled of maple syrup and broomstick polish, pleasant enough. _Maybe if she wished hard enough…_

Lorcan pulled back, but did not let go of her waist, when a loud crash sounded from the large portrait door that hid the Head Tower from the rest of Hogwarts. Lorcan and Rose both looked in that direction, dazed and confused as pieces of splintered wood flew around them.

_There, _Rose thought, as one rather big piece hit her in the head. _There's the bloody stick of wood that hates me. _

Finally, Rose saw that it was Scorpius who stood at the door, hand clutched tightly around his wand. Rose had given him, Al, and Aurora the password a while ago. Rose saw a few dim red sparks from the end of his wand and stared in shock at the small wooden table he'd blown up…seemingly, by accident. "I…" His voice was hoarse. "I…came to get my cloak," he said. Another red spark flew from his wand.

Rose didn't understand the expression on his face at all.

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**REVIEW, EVERYONE!!! :) (Also, Thank You to everyone who did review. I appreciate it a lot! Cookies!) **


	6. Chapter 6

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**A/N: I hope you all like it--enjoy! :) Harry Potter and All Affliated Material does not belong to me. I mean, I may have had a crazy dream about having billions of dollars yesterday, but *sigh* it doesn't mean I own Harry Potter and his beautiful green eyes. **

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It was like something straight out of his worst nightmares. In a trance, he reached for his wand, and his fingers closed tightly, painfully so, around it. Rose and…and _Lorcan Scamander, _the bigoted prick, were all wrapped up in each other, pressed up against a wall. It was like someone had applied a Supersticking Charm to their lips.

A voice was snarling inside his head, screeching and horrible; _she's mine! Get your filthy paws off of her! _The thought was outdated, traditional and his mother—and Rose—would hex him into the next century if he ever told a woman that she belonged to him, but he couldn't control the thought.

He wasn't really sure what happened. Something red-hot ignited behind his eyes, burning its way through conscious thought and diplomacy and manners. Before he knew it, a mahogany table had exploded into splinters. Glancing down, he saw flaming red sparks fly from his wand; instead of feeling guilty, he was only disappointed that he hadn't blown up Scamander instead—

"I…" He was struggling to find the words as Scamander and Rose unglued their lips from each other's to look at him. Why was he here again? Right…right…he'd left his robe here last night with Rose. Mainly, he'd come to check up on her, to see if she was okay, but she'd probably have yelled at him for being overbearing and intruding on her independence, so he had to have an excuse if he wanted his head still attached to his neck at breakfast… "I came to get my cloak," he finally managed to spit it out. The feral voice in his head was still protesting at the fact that Scamander still had his arms wrapped around Rose like he had a right to—

Rose glanced at him. Her gaze was…_determined, _as if she had set her mind on something, but she looked terribly sad too. She looked tired, weary in a way that he'd never seen before…

So Al had been right about Scamander putting the moves on Rose. At the thought of the pompous Head Boy, who was, admittedly, more popular than Scorpius (who had never really wanted to be popular in the first place), Scorpius felt his hand curl tighter around his wand a little tighter. The urge to pry him away from Rose, the urge to curse him, the urge to just…get him _away _from Rose was overpowering. It was irrational and Scorpius knew, as much as he didn't want to admit it, what it meant.

He'd never even wanted to hex the boys who spent their time pining after Lily. He'd thought they were equal parts amusing and sad; amusing, because they were a tad pathetic, and sad, because Lily would never give them the time of day. He'd never reacted like this, like a dumb caveman protecting his property.

And Rose wasn't his property; she wasn't his _anything, _really, he realized with a jolt. Not when he'd teased her for seven years and assumed, just like everybody else, that she'd always be there when he needed her. Not when it had taken him seven years to realize she was a _girl—_well, he'd known that she was a _girl, _but he, like the rest of her family and the most of the school, had assumed that no one would be interested _that way _in a girl like her.

And now that _he_ was…slightly more than interested, all he could do was blow up tables by accident.

"Hey, Malfoy. Reverting back to uncontrolled magic?" Did Scamander _mean _to sound like an irritating ass? He was smirking at him, arms still slung around Rose, who made no attempt to get away.

"I might _accidentally _blow you up next," Scorpius retorted, trying to control his temper and failing miserably. He shot Scamander a vicious look. Scamander snorted. Scorpius was going to crush him on the Pitch next time they had a game, so help him Merlin.

He didn't like feeling like this. The feelings were burning away all his sense and turning into an artless savage. Jeez. His father would laugh at him if he ever found out; he'd say something like _Malfoys, son, don't pine for women (particularly not the offspring of The Weasel); it's the other way around. _It was no matter in Draco's mind that he himself had spent two years chasing after Scorpius's mother—it was no matter in his mind that Astoria Malfoy and Hermione Weasley were very good friends, either.

"Your robe's on the armchair," Rose said carefully, as she cast a strange look at him. Her voice, which had shrieked at him many times about doing dangerous things during a Quidditch game or about neglecting the First Years a personal tour of the castle, seemed soft and distant.

Scorpius knew what the jealousy—he forced himself to admit that that was what it was—swarming inside of him meant. It was forcing him to consider all the moments he'd been blind in the last few years and the last few days, forcing him to think about all the little signs he'd ignored.

Like how at the Potters' formal Christmas party last year, when he'd seen Rose in something other than her robes or jeans, he'd literally gaped until Al had smacked him in the head with an Exploding Snap piece. She'd worn some floaty lavender thing, strapless and so short he'd practically choked. Her hair had been pinned up and it had been straight and shiny and soft…it had been her Aunt Ginny's and Lily's work, but it had been _Rose _in that dress…Now that Scorpius thought about it, more and more little suppressed little memories were resurfacing.

Little things, like the way, before her father had insisted she learn how to fly, he'd been the only one she trusted to take her up in the air. That used to make him pleased, in a way he hadn't understood until this moment. The way she would fall asleep on the train with him, leaning against him, and he would gladly let her because the smell of her hair made him feel…like he was finally at _home_. The way she hated Quidditch, but she came to all the Slytherin games anyways—Al had once grumbled, drunkenly, that Rose only came because Scorpius was on the team. When they won the House Cup, Rose would come to Slytherin dorms to congratulate him even if they had beaten her own house, and he would never feel the euphoria of victory until she showed up.

And then there had been yesterday, when she had been wandering around in that see-through shirt; Scorpius had thought he could control his hormones, but judging by that dream, he obviously had some work left in that area.

"Give us some privacy, Malfoy, will you?" Scamander demanded. Scorpius had never been on a first-name basis with either Scamander brother—as a rule, Quidditch captains didn't do things like Befriending the Enemy (or things like Befriending the Enemy's Twin Brother), thank you very much.

"Sure," Scorpius said, picking his robe up rather unceremoniously. He walked towards them, though, and stood right beside them. He was acutely aware of the fact that he was acting like an ass, and somehow he couldn't give a damn when Scamander was so close to Rose, close in a way he had never been…Rose stepped away from Scamander, _finally, _but she glared at him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked him, brown eyes blazing with anger. He could see the speech she was dying to give in her eyes: _privacy, Malfoy, ever heard of it? I mean, I suppose not, you're friends with Al. But goodness, it's not like I'm shagging him here or something. Even if I was, it wouldn't be any of your business—_

The image of _that _seared itself into his mind and was enough to make him feel sick. He was glad he'd never felt this kind of jealousy before. It was uncontrollable, overpowering, so intoxicating.

"I'm inviting you to breakfast?" he asked Rose meekly, so as to not incur any head-ripping-off from her.

Rose raised a sceptical eyebrow at him, like she so often had in the past when he said something she considered dumb, like "oh, so Rose got an _Exceeds Expectations _instead of _Outstanding, _that's no big deal." "Have you forgotten something, Scorpius?" she asked sharply.

"What?" he asked, honestly bewildered.

"It's Saturday. A _Hogsmeade_ weekend," she said, enunciating each word with brutal force.

"So what?"

Evidently, that was something she considered very dumb. Rose's eyebrow climbed further up her forehead, and she asked in a very quiet whisper that reminded him of McGonagall _right _before the professor was about to explode, "Lily, Scorpius, _that's _what. Lily. You take Lily out on Saturdays, particularly if it is _actually allowed_ for you to go to Hogsmeade! You don't think it's sad I have to remind you that you have a date with my cousin? "

He felt a cold rush pour through his veins.

_Lily. _Lily. His girlfriend. His beautiful, talented girlfriend, who the entire male population of Hogwarts was probably ogling at that very moment. Lily, who smelled like the perfect perfume, who was utterly brilliant at Quidditch, who was genuinely more popular than anyone he'd ever known (including Scamander the Prick).

But he was standing here with Rose and didn't want to move unless it involved throwing Scamander out that conveniently placed dorm window. Problem was, while Lily smelled…perfect, Rose smelled like…like so many things he couldn't describe properly; like belonging, like comfort and warmth, like friendship and home, something sweet and soft and addictive. So maybe Rose said all the wrong things, all the strangest things, all the awkward things, at all the wrong times. But she was honest and smart and when she looked at him, he felt like he knew who she was and she knew who he was.

Lily. Rose. Lily. Rose. Lily and Scorpius. Rose and…_Scamander? _

He felt bile creep up his throat as flashes of the future appeared before his eyes. Could he let this be?

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**A/N: I don't know how much I liked this one. *writer's block kills*. Suggestions/comments/constructive criticism/criticism/and of course compliments welcome! :) **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I've been toying with this chapter for a while, it's been hard to write! :) Just to clarify, Rose and Scorpius were very close, back before Scorpius started dating Lily; Rose's feelings have slowly gotten stronger and stronger, until now, when she just avoids Scorpius because she's afraid she'll say something like "I'velovedyousinceforever" if she spends too much time with him. She thinks that Scorpius loves Lily, and she's much too kind to wreck their relationship--doesn't mean she can't date someone else, though. Interesting, isn't it, that Rose dating someone else makes Scorpius so utterly jealous. ;) **Hogsmeade in the fall was like a scene from a storybook, with grand maple trees whose leaves were turning burnished auburn and bronze, rustic oil lamps and charming little shops up and down the main street. Rose had always loved the romanticism of the little village, always had hoped that this last year at school she'd walk here, like her mother and father and aunts and uncles before her, in love and loved.

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Of course, in her hopes it had always been Scorpius with her, not Lorcan Scamander. But she supposed he made an excellent replacement. Lorcan walked by her side at that moment, close but not too close.

She was still turning over the events of this morning in her head. It was all so confusing; it was a whirlwind of emotions in her head, and she was losing the carefully cultivated control and logic she prized so much. Lorcan Scamander, interested in _her? _Yes, she was the daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley, niece of the one and only Harry Potter, and yes, her cousins and brother were all insanely popular, but Rose didn't want people to be interested in her _family _or their fame and wealth instead of her.

Lorcan's family, though, was famous and wealthy of its own accord, and so she could cross that off from the list of reasons why he could possibly be interested in her. But then, _why _was he here with her? Lorcan could have whoever he wanted, but he wanted her. There was something very suspicious about the picture—Rose was a realist now, and she'd be cynical if she had to be.

And then there was Scorpius, who had been utterly confusing this morning too. Scorpius and Al had never gotten along with the Scamander brothers—or any of the other Quidditch players from other Houses, really. It was something stupid about "Befriending the Enemy". But Rose had never seen Scorpius be so nasty to someone for no apparent reason—and she'd never seen him lose control of his magic to the extent that he had this morning.

_I mean, really—blowing up tables. What was he so upset about? _Rose hated not knowing. And Scorpius had forgotten his date with _Lily! _She'd thought it was impossible for any boy or man to forget about Lily. But Scorpius had only glared furiously at Lorcan, and he'd looked at her like he thought she was doing something terribly disappointing and wrong.

And Scorpius wouldn't _leave _this morning, abjectly refusing to give Lorcan and Rose some privacy. She knew Scorpius better than she knew anybody, and if things were different, she'd have said that Scorpius was _jealous. _

But he _wasn't _jealous. Because he wasn't interested in her as anything other than a friend; sure, he trusted her and he liked her well enough and he probably even loved her in a completely platonic sense. But he didn't love her in the way he'd have to if he was _jealous, _so what exactly had he been _doing_?

Was he just being overprotective, like her father and Uncle Harry and Merlin, even Uncle George? Scorpius was one of those people who believed that protecting women was just a man's job, just like the rest of her overbearing male relatives. He was one of those obliviously honourable people, always trying to do the right thing—even if the "right thing" in their heads was the _stupid_ thing in everybody else's.

Rose pursed her lips, still annoyed at not understanding. Suddenly, Lorcan was very close to her, his hand in hers; she looked over quizzically at the handsome boy by her side.

"You look like you're thinking about something sad," he said conversationally, with a smile.

"Do I?" she echoed. "Not really, you know, just…stuff. Why d'you reckon Scorpius was being so rude this morning?" she asked him, hoping that she didn't sound hopelessly naïve.

Lorcan laughed, and she winced inside. Did he think that she was horribly uncool? "Malfoy? I reckon he's just being dumb, as usual. Thinks he needs to protect you from me when you probably need protecting from him." He gave her a big charming smile that was beautiful, but the flutter of her heart that she expected never came.

A little burst of disappointment washed through her; had she been hoping that Lorcan would say that Scorpius was jealous? _Jealous of what? _She asked herself harshly. _Jealous of Lorcan having the neurotic bookworm he's never been interested in? _She reminded herself that she was _moving on _and held Lorcan's hand a little tighter; she reminded herself that she was smart and just pretty _enough _to get byand that her future should be just as bright as anyone else's.

Lorcan casually slung an arm around her shoulders; it felt good to be in someone's arms, but not as good as she'd always imagined it would. "So where are we headed?" he asked her sweetly. She liked that he didn't instantly direct her towards the branch of the Weasleys' joke shop right away like Al and Score would have. But then, maybe Score would be romantic on a date too. She wouldn't know.

_Moving on, _she chided herself, _you're moving on. _

"Let's stop at the Three Broomsticks," she said—she'd skipped breakfast in favour of trying to get rid of Scorpius so she could kiss Lorcan. He nodded earnestly in agreement and spontaneously picked her up and twirled her around; her robes spun out like a grand ball gown. She laughed, enjoying the dizzying ride, wondering why she hadn't dated someone earlier.

He set her down gently, grinning all the while. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, quite a few people point in their direction; this was sure to be good gossip, the new girl that Lorcan was dating. She wondered how many of her cousins would accidentally walk into something when they learned it was her. They walked fast to the Three Broomsticks, hurried by the bounce in their steps.

When they finally got there, the little shop was crowded with Hogwarts students with friends and on dates, with barely enough room to squeeze through the door. The only table left was the one in a dark corner; Rose sighed in relief when she realized there were only two other people there. Too bad the two people were…

_Lily and Scorpius? _

Rose felt something uncomfortable rise up in her throat. She must look horrible compared to her cousin; even if she had thrown on one of the short school skirts that Lily had bought and attempted to smooth out her hair and had slicked on some lip gloss that Rose was sure was older than her wand, she couldn't compare to Lily's polished perfection…

She gulped a little, but Lorcan gently tugged her towards the table. He had a smile on his face, but she saw the unease in his eyes. "It's like they saved us a seat," he told her, and she tried to return the smile. She refused to look at the other couple; Lorcan placed a comforting hand at the small of her back. She walked a little faster and sat down very quickly, still refusing to look at Lily and Scorpius.

She was forced to look, though, when she felt someone's arms sling around her neck and squeeze her tightly. "Rosie! I didn't know you were going to be here, you're usually in the library!" Lily's angelic voice was in her ear, but Rose heard a rather menacing undertone to her cousin's words.

"Um, yeah, hi, Lily," Rose said awkwardly, when Lily stopped hugging her. She had been right; Lily was breathtaking in her floaty, sheer blouse and her trendy dark jeans and her high-heeled boots. Her hair was spun up in some complicated hairdo and her makeup was impeccable.

"Oh, who's this, Rosie?" Lily asked interestedly when she saw Lorcan. Lily probably knew Lorcan far better than she did; Lily was a vital part of the ruling party at Hogwarts, just like Lorcan. Rose watched Lily's eyes widen imperceptibly, and then she watched them narrow to slits. Lorcan looked…_guilty _under Lily's gaze!?Rose was sure she was seeing things. Inadvertently, her gaze slipped to Scorpius, who sat staring at the scene with forceful intensity. All she wanted to do was to go sit across from him, order a Butterbeer and talk like they used to. That was before her burgeoning feelings had gotten to be too much to handle and she'd taken to avoiding him.

"I'm sure you know Lorcan, Lily," Rose said absentmindedly, distracted by Scorpius. Why did he look so unhappy? Had he _finally _realized that Lily spent a great deal of time skinny dipping in the Great Lake with a Sixth Year from Ravenclaw?

"Oh, _yes_. Hello, Lorcan," Lily said. Rose's attention snapped back to Lily; Rose had heard the faint but definite trace of menace in her cousin's voice. Why was Lily so pissed off at _Lorcan? _Lily sent Lorcan her patented smile, but even Rose could see the brewing rage in her eyes.

"Lily," Lorcan said, nodding at her. He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was challenging Lily; Rose felt her own eyebrows knit together. What was going on? She thought she and Scorpius were the ones who were going to be awkward and uncomfortable, but it seemed that Lily and Lorcan had skipped that stage and gone right on to the "pissed-as-hell-and-I'm-going-to-take-it-out-on-you" stage.

Lorcan turned abruptly from speaking to Lily to hit Rose in the eyes the sort of smouldering look that she guessed was supposed to make her all aflutter and such. Rose stared back at him, feeling like a deer caught in those Muggle headlight thingies; what was he _doing? _Going from having a heated glare session with Lily to trying to seduce her in two seconds flat—talk about good zero-to-sixty time.

Before she had more time to comprehend that, though, Lorcan had already leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She was new to all of this, but she followed his lead and tried to pretend that Scorpius wasn't _right there, _and that Score wasn't the one she wanted to be sitting there, across from her, hands on hers, lips on hers.

Lorcan's pleasant smell invaded her head. It was like being a flower shop, smelling all the pretty scents but not finding the one that she really needed. He was getting more insistent by the second; Rose felt him tracing the outline of her bottom lip with his tongue. She opened one eye in surprise, to find that both of Lorcan's were closed, and that the expression on his face was one of sheer determination. She glanced over at the Lily and Scorpius's table; and to her shock, Lily had thrown herself onto Scorpius's lap, and they were going at it like…god, like nothing she'd ever seen before.

It made Rose sick to look at; she felt like she was intruding on something personal, and she felt like someone had stuck a hand down her throat and wrenched her heart out from her chest and splattered it all over the wall. She was glad they were sitting in such a dark corner of the shop; otherwise, there would probably be catcalling and whistling surrounding them from all directions. She broke away from Lorcan, who had since opened his eyes and was watching Scorpius and Lily anyways.

Lily had her hands in Scorpius's hair; it was the honey-gold hair that Rose had so often watched glint in the sunlight at dumb Quidditch games she went to because she wanted to see him in his element (even if she totally didn't get said element). Lily's lips moved fervently against Scorpius's, the same ones that last year, at that stupid Christmas party that Uncle Harry insisted on every year, she had wanted to kiss _so much _under the mistletoe. Scorpius didn't seem to be quite as…_interested _as Lily, but his arms were around her all the same and it made Rose's chest ache.

Rose wanted to shut her eyes and pretend it wasn't happening; this was precisely why that on Hogsmeade weekends, she hid in the library. Precisely why she'd taken to avoiding Scorpius. She had always known how much it would hurt to see Scorpius and Lily like this. But she didn't have to shut her eyes, because it seemed that their public display bothered Lorcan as much as it bothered her. Lorcan said, loudly, "OI! You're in public here!"

Lily broke away from Scorpius and turned towards them slowly. She raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow and said, with her voice full of contempt, "You didn't have a problem with that a moment ago."

Scorpius, too, narrowed his eyes at Lorcan and said, "Exactly, Scamander. Didn't see you complaining 'bout anything while you had your mouth all over Rose." His voice was cold, hard; Rose wouldn't let herself look directly at him, but she saw that he looked a little panicked in her peripheral vision.

Lorcan rolled his eyes. "In case you didn't notice, _we're _not going at it like rabbits, unlike the two of you." Rose was still reeling from the hurt in her system at seeing the definitive proof that Lily and Scorpius were closer than ever, still trying to fight back the tears burning viciously at the back of her eyes; she couldn't come up with the scathing comment she wanted to come up with.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Just because Scorpius and I are…more _passionate _than you and, uh, your," Lily cast an appraising eye over Rose, "Homework help over there, it doesn't mean you have to be so bitter, Lorcan, darling."

_Homework help? _Rose felt something cold flood through her body. Rose had always known Lily could be right mean when she wanted, but Lily had never attacked _Rose, _who had never done anything to her but cover up for her on nights when she was out late.

Rose felt the hurt creep across her face, but she pulled herself together right away; she had more _dignity _than that. She felt a spurt of anger inflame her; what right did Lily have to patronize her? She caught Scorpius's stormy look out of the corner of her eye and ignored it.

"Oh, I'm not bitter, Lily, _sweetheart," _Lorcan said, voice scornful. "I'm just nauseated, really—I'm so glad Rose and I have some _self-respect _and aren't going at it like animals in a pub." Lorcan rose from his seat; Rose did the same.

Rose summoned up whatever composure she had forced her voice to be calm as she said, "C'mon, Lorcan. They are kind of nauseating. We have better things to be doing than to waste our time arguing with them." She reached for Lorcan's hand and gripped it. Finally, she looked at Scorpius. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. Scorpius, who she had trusted above anybody else, who she had been her confidante, her friend, and her hope for so long now, looked utterly enraged. His eyes burned with anger, and she could see the tension in his shoulders; Rose shoved the desire to make him feel better away.

Rose told herself she didn't care what he felt. She was moving on. She had Lorcan now. Who cared if Lily had just insulted her? Who cared if the inside of her chest still felt like someone had taken a hammer to it? Who cared if she still wanted Scorpius to _see _her, really see her? When she had been younger, Rose had spent all her time wondering what was _wrong _with her and feeling sorry for herself, but she was going to change that. She wasn't going to lose this fight.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Ohh, some people are catching onto my master plan for the story. *evil laugh* I know, I know, I REALLY want to see Rose and Scorpius together already too, but it's too much fun torturing them at the moment. (All that angst, it's great…) **

**PLEASE REVIEW!! Reviews = Happy Writer = Fuel for Story!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with Harry Potter. Am working on better disclaimer, but the possibility of having Scorpius shirtless in this story keeps distracting me. **

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"That was harsh, Lil," Scorpius said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. Rose and Scamander had marched out of the shop already. Scorpius tried to keep the images of them attached at the mouth out of his head, but they seemed to have ingrained themselves in his memory. His nails were cutting into his hand because his fists were closed so tightly; he couldn't care less. He couldn't blow up a table in here and get away with it, so he'd have to get by with wanting to bang his fists on the table.

"Harsh?" Lily repeated lightly. "Hardly. Not harsh enough, I think," she said, deftly flipping her auburn hair over one shoulder. She examined her nails absently, but Scorpius could tell she was furious at something. He'd been rather thrown off guard just a moment ago when she had thrown herself onto him; first of all, loathe as he was to admit it, Scamander had been right, they _were _in public. Scorpius did have qualms about exhibitionism, even if Lily didn't. Second of all, he'd been too busy plotting Scamander's death in his head to pay too much attention to Lily's rather forceful ministrations.

Rose's injured expression kept flashing around in his memory. Scorpius had seen Rose's expression when Lily had genuinely insulted her; he had never seen anyone look so hurt. He'd seen the tears glazing over in Rose's eyes just moments before the warmth that he relied on so much had disappeared from her eyes, replaced by steely determination. H_omework help. _It occurred to him that Rose must feel like that was all she was a lot of the time; she tutored the First Years, and she often stayed up so late editing stuff with him and Al that she'd fall asleep in their dorm. (Scorpius had no complaints about that; Rose looked so much more at peace when asleep, sprawled over foot after foot of scribbled-on parchment, red hair fanning out around her head like a fiery halo. Even if he did have to sleep on the floor—if Al wasn't there, he'd probably just crash next to her because something about the thought of having Rose right there was inanely appealing…)

_Since when do I think thoughts like that about Rose?_

He had the most unnerving feeling when something in his head whispered _since forever, since you met her. _He froze on the spot. _Since forever? _He thought back to the years he'd spent with her. All the times they fell asleep together on the train, his arms around her, her head on his shoulder, more blissful than any of the various things he'd done with Lily. All the times she'd lean into him a thousand feet up in the air on his broomstick, knowing she was safe…all the times she'd fallen asleep in his dorm and he'd sit up, just watching her breathe, for once not rambling on about her grades or how dumb Quidditch was. All the times she'd yell at him, eyes spitting fire, after he'd risked his neck to catch the Snitch; at the end of the lecture, she'd whisper that she had been so scared, and that she couldn't stand the idea of him lifeless on the ground. He'd roll his eyes and tell her that she was being dramatic and that he was _way _too good at Quidditch for that, but he'd be touched all the same.

Scorpius felt like someone was beating his head with a Beater's stick; he was unable to breathe or to move. More memories accosted him, like bees swarming around him. Him and Rose, sneaking out to the lake at three in the morning for a swim in the lake bordering the Potter Cottage; it was one of their bizarre traditions, something that they'd done every summer since First Year. Every year before last, she had just worn a red one-piece, the kind that Muggles wore to competitions. Somehow, last year, she had shown up for their swim in a complicated two-piece contraption that had looked like it'd been held together solely by strings. (Things like that, in his opinion, were made solely for the purpose of forcing men to mentally undress women. String bikinis were medieval torture devices, really.) He had barely managed to jump in the freezing water in time.

Then there were all the small things, things that mattered more than anything else when you added then all together; the way that she had the patience of a saint with his complete inability to work Muggle appliances. (Something about her father being an even bigger idiot…) The way she liked chocolate even more than he did (it was freakishly unnatural the way that Lily steered away from the stuff—who can resist _chocolate?). _The way she hated Quidditch, but had never once tried to stop him from playing it because she knew how much he loved it. The way she was startlingly good at Muggle school stuff, just like him, not that he'd ever tell anyone but her. (After a particularly lengthy debate on who was better at math, during which approximately one hundred and nine curse words had been exchanged and she had thrown a book at his head—thank god she had no aim to speak of—he'd decided never to say that he was better than math than her ever again.) The way she instantaneously stood up for him when her father said something insulting about him, in the way that he'd just punch his dad if he made a crack about her. So many other tiny things that made Rose so…_Rose. _He took a moment to imagine his life without her and couldn't do it.

He realized in an instant exactly why he had been so restless, so consistently unfocused and dissatisfied for a while now, starting from the train ride here when Rose had been so jarringly _absent _from the train compartment.

It was Rose. She was missing. She spent so much time with Aurora stuck inside the Head Tower, refusing to visit his and Al's dorm, refusing to go to any Quidditch games, hiding out in the library on Hogsmeade weekends instead of goofing off with him. She was missing from breakfast in the Great Hall all the time, when usually she'd watch in disgust as Al inhaled his food and laugh when Scorpius charmed her food to do the chicken dance on her plate. (She'd usually go and one-up him and make _his _food explode upwards in a fireworks show worthy of even McGonagall's praise.) She was missing from their usual table in Potions, instead hunched over her own Amortentia potion in the corner of the classroom furthest away from him. With an overwhelming rush and the pounding of his heart, Scorpius realized the unidentifiable scent in his own Amortentia was the sweet smell of Rose's hair, an odd combination of strawberry and honeysuckle and something indefinably _Rose. _

It was a miracle he'd managed to suppress all of these feelings for this long. He shut his eyes, appalled that he had missed this for so long, that he had been so bloody blind for so long.

No wonder it had made his insides burn to see Scamander all over Rose. He had _feelings _for her. And not the average she's-hot-so-I-like-her kind of feelings; he realized with a jolt that his feelings for Rose were the kind that had grown from something small and insignificant into the kind of feelings that he couldn't describe with words.

"OI! Scorpius!" Lily's voice, irritated, cut through his thoughts. Blinking, he turned his attention back to Lily, who, as usual, was stunning today. But he thought back to Rose, and how she had been wearing one of the insanely short skirts that Lily usually wore—what was _with _that, anyways, her dressing up for Scamander?—and how her hair had been shiny and smooth and soft and all he'd been able to think about was how _good _it must smell and how her lips were shiny and pink and he had _really _wanted to see what they tasted like.

Lily kicked him under the table. Realizing she must be mad that he wasn't paying her any attention, he looked at her. "_Yes, _Lily?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you don't want to be here, Scorpius, don't be here."

"Lily, what's up with you today?" he asked, trying to be tactful. He was puzzled by her outburst at Scamander, just like he had been when he'd caught them in the hallway, screaming bloody murder at each other.

Lily's gaze turned dark. "What the hell is Lorcan doing with _Rose? _She's so _dorky, _Merlin, my _mother _is less of a dork than she is. Miss Goody-Two-Shoes-Head-Girl and _Lorcan? _It's gross. It's not as if Lorcan would actually like her—who would?—but she's not even of any use. I mean, except for homework help, and don't we already know _that."_

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. The urge to protect Rose was overpowering—seemed all his feelings concerning Rose were overpowering. Lily didn't have the right to say that about Rose, who was hilariously funny (although probably not intentionally), so damn _nice, _brutally honest, and sweet. She was far from perfect, but then again, so was he.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Lily said, not sounding sorry at all, "You're actually friends with her."

"Yeah, I am," he said—he didn't mean to sound defensive, but he did anyways. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult my friends. And she's your _family, _Lily."

"I didn't insult her, I just told it like it is," Lily said flippantly, ignoring the _family _bit. "You know, Scorpius, I think this isn't about me saying things about Rose. What was with _you _today, glaring at Lorcan like you want to kill him?"

Scorpius tried to look nonchalant. "Not Befriending the Enemy, that's what it is. We've got a big game coming up."

Lily, who was nobody's fool, asked, "Yeah? That why you were practically drooling on Rose?"

This time, he pretended to look surprised. "When did I have time to drool on Rose, Lily, when you were all over me?"

Lily looked furious. She smoothed out her jeans and looked at him, eyes alight with anger. "You weren't complaining."

"Lily, I asked you to stop _three_ times."

Lily gave him a look that would have made anyone else shrink away; Scorpius, who was used to that, just sighed. "What are we doing, Lily?"

"What do you mean, what are we doing? We're having a _life, _unlike some people we know."

"No, Lily, what are we doing together if we're just going to rip each other's heads off?"

Lily frowned. "Scorpius, I trust that you're not stupid enough not to know that you're not the only person I see."

"Uh-huh," Scorpius nodded, tired of this same old story. It'd be nice if he actually cared about the fact that Lily dated other people. It would make things so much less complicated.

Lily leaned in very close to him, so that her perfume invaded his senses. Resisting the urge to cough, he stayed quiet.

"Thing is, Scorpius, I'd have broken it off with you a while ago if you weren't…_so useful," _Lily, a sly smile tipping up at the corners of her mouth. "You see, you're Quidditch captain, and us Quidditch players have _such _an interesting rivalry. You're practically the only one not related to me, too, which makes you even more perfect."

Scorpius was relieved on one hand—she wasn't anymore interested in this relationship than him—but he was also confused. What was she convinced he was useful for?

"See, Scorpius, there is something that I want but I can't have. That _never _happens to me," she said, and he saw a flash of indignation. "It's his last year at Hogwarts, Scorpius," she paused for a moment, "And I'm sick of waiting."

Scorpius listened to her words carefully until finally a few things fell into place. "I was sick of watching Lorcan date girl after girl a long time ago, so I decided to take things into my own hands and date you."

Finally it made sense to Scorpius. No wonder Lily and Lorcan were always fighting; so Lorcan was the one who had held Lily's heart—he knew quite a few people who'd be surprised to hear she had one—all this time. He had always known he wasn't the one for Lily, known that they were like the proverbial summer fling-type couple. But now that he knew who she really loved, who really could get under her skin like no one else, he felt a little sorry for her. It was true that Scamander probably had more exes than even Al (who had, on average, dated a different girl every week-and-a-half since Third Year). It must have been painful to watch.

Scorpius probably should have been a little offended or hurt that Lily had used him in her scheme, but he was just relieved that their relationship had really been a fake, hollowed-out version of the real thing. Lily stared at Scorpius and she shut her eyes for a moment, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing; a vulnerable, fragile Lily.

When she opened her eyes, there was the faint sheen of tears in her eyes. "I hate feeling like this. I hate love, and I hate emotions. They make you all weak and throw your judgement." Lily seemed to brace herself. "I hate him, Scorpius, for making me feel this way. He kissed me once, on my birthday, and it was like nothing I'd ever known. Mind-blowing in a way that you can't fake, Merlin—no offence, not that you're not a good kisser or anything."

Scorpius almost smiled. "None taken, Lily," he murmured. "You know, I reckon…I mean, I really hope that Scamander feels the same way about you." Scorpius somehow felt that Scamander's sudden interest in Rose had less to do with Rose and more to do with the rumours that his relationship with Lily was very serious. He hoped with a desperate zeal that it was true.

"You do?" she asked in surprise. "Don't you want Rose to be happy?"

"Hell, yes. But I want her to be happy with me, not with him," Scorpius said, shaking his head at the irony of it all. Him and Lily, Rose and Scamander. What a twisted story. He wondered how Scamander really felt about Rose—more importantly, how did she feel about him?

Lily bit her lip. "You know, it's been a running joke in the family for years what Uncle Ron would do when you finally realized how you feel about Rose."

Scorpius sighed. "Was I that obvious?" How could he have been so _stupid? _So damn blinded by trivial things like popularity. How could he have let this go so far, so far that Rose was no longer in reach and instead off laughing with _Scamander? _Why hadn't he just let Rose know how he really felt, what she was to him? Would she even return the feelings, if he told her now?

"She's not much of a catch," Lily said, rolling her eyes, "But I guess that's what you like about her. I guess that's what Lorcan likes about her too."

Scorpius sighed, pointedly ignoring her comment about Rose not being much of a catch. He couldn't even really understand how he'd gotten himself into this mess. "So what are we going to do now, Lily?"

"We're going to fight, Scorpius. We're going to fight, and it doesn't matter if we fight dirty," she said, looking determined. She rolled her eyes again. "Merlin, I sound just like my dad, how lame."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in the story!! I just got back to school and all my profs are all "we don't bloody care if you NEED to write your fanfiction, here's your three weeks' worth of backbreaking work"… Anyways, thank you everybody who reviewed! I appreciate it a lot. Sorry about all the tense changes in the previous chapters—I was trying to figure out if the story sounded better in the present or past, but it just wrote itself into the past tense… Please review! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything affiliated with Harry Potter. I can't come up with my pithy disclaimer because I am too busy being distracted by shirtless Scorpius. **

* * *

Lorcan was fuming. Quite literally _fuming._ Rose could just imagine the steam pouring out of his ears. His complexion, normally the perfect bronzed tan she could never get, was the colour of her hair. He was marching—actually, it was more like stalking—down the street, muttering curse words under his breath. Rose was getting rather bored of his little tantrum, and said, in a voice she hoped wasn't too nosy, "Lorcan, are you feeling okay?"

"No," he replied tersely. "Who the hell does Malfoy think he is?" he rounded on her angrily.

"Uhm…" Rose blinked as she and Lorcan came to a stop outside of Honeyduke's. What was she _supposed _to say? She hated it when people asked dumb rhetorical questions she felt compelled to answer. "Malfoy, I imagine, thinks he's Malfoy," Rose said slowly, for lack of something better.

Lorcan gave her an eye-roll worthy of Lily. "You _are_ a smartass."

Again, she blinked. How the heck did people respond to things like that? Was it an _insult? _Or was he just stating a _fact? _Merlin, people were so damn confusing. "Um, thanks?" she said tentatively, thinking that it would be for the better if she responded positively rather than negatively.

Lorcan snorted this time and basically snapped, "Wasn't a compliment."

She felt very uncomfortable, and a little offended. Were they having their first fight? If so, what were they even fighting about? Scratch the part about _people _being confusing, _boys _were just downright mental. They were going to drive her up a wall and make her right mental, too. (Quite generously assuming, of course, that she wasn't already insane. She suspected many people would disagree with that assumption…)

Hoping to divert the situation, Rose gestured weakly at Honeydukes and said, "Uh…want to buy some chocolate?"

"Not too fond of the stuff," he muttered back at her, but he headed into the shop anyways. Rose tried to prevent her eyes from bugging out of her head at hearing him; why, in the name of Merlin's orange-and-purple polka-dotted socks, would anyone not like _chocolate? _She practically choked on the breath of air she was about to take; this relationship was really not going to work if he didn't like chocolate. Rose lived off chocolate—it made everything better, from homework to breakfast to…a rather shocking image involving Scorpius and chocolate came to mind.

_Alright, Rosie, now is not the time to think about…about…shirtless Scorpius and those…delicious looking…_

_There is _never _a time to think about that, _she scolded herself, before totally losing her self-control again. There was just something incomprehensibly alluring about the idea of chocolate and Scorpius. If she ever told him, he'd probably think she needed her head examined, but nevertheless, she couldn't decide if it was the chocolate or Scorpius that was more scrumptious looking…

And then her little fantasy shifted a little, and she decided Scorpius was _definitely _the better pick.

Her throat closed up; Lorcan turned around to look at her strangely from inside the shop. "Oi, Rose. Didn't you want to come in?" he asked her, with a distinct undertone that said, _hurry the bloody hell up. _

Rose nodded distractedly and hurried in after him, shutting the door. The sweet smell of sugar brought a warm rush to her; she was _freezing _in this bloody skirt, and she couldn't sit down properly (she'd really rather not flash the entire room). She smiled and inhaled the comforting, familiar smell, but Lorcan looked thoroughly miserable.

Peering at him, she asked, "Lily and Scorpius—did they bother you?" In a flash, she came up with a vague theory about Lorcan's sudden interest in her. Rose was simply not the kind of girl who attracted attention from boys like Lorcan, despite what all those Muggle movies might say. (Besides, Rose didn't really want to be involved with Lorcan anyways, no matter how much she wanted to deny _that.) _

"Lily, bother _me_?" he repeated, a heavy note of false incredulity in his voice. "Of course not."

Rose, who, despite all her awkward tendencies, still knew something was wrong, raised a sceptical eyebrow. Lorcan refused to say anything, though, so Rose picked up a candied rose, charmed into blooming and re-blooming, and smiled at the cheesiness of the flower. She held it up to Lorcan, who stared at it with devastating force. Slowly, just to watch his reaction, she silently charmed it to change into a fiery tiger lily.

She saw the exact moment that Lorcan let his real feelings slip out a little. She supposed that no one was perfect…

"It's Lily, isn't it?" Rose asked, a little disappointed nonetheless that Lorcan wasn't genuinely interested in her. Then again, it wasn't like she could be genuinely interested in a completely socially graceful, un-Scorpius-like, non-obsessed with Quidditch non-Slytherin…

"I know it's a damn lily," Lorcan said, voice low and annoyed. He took the flower from her hand and held it gently. "What's your point, Rose?"

"My point, Lorcan," she said slowly, "Is that people like _you _don't just suddenly get interested in people like me. I think you're interested in me for reasons other than my _oh-so-interesting _neurotic quirks," Rose said, her sarcasm cutting through the air like a scythe.

Lorcan looked at her for a long moment, blue eyes blazing. She wondered if he was mad or just frustrated. She wondered if he felt guilty for trying to use her. "You're really smart, Rose," he told her calmly.

She nodded, surprised, but gestured for him to continue. "But you're not Lily, you know?" he asked her, in a whisper, as if admitting to anyone this weakness was horrifically wrong. Rose felt an empty sort of pang clatter inside; she was a little wounded by his words. She knew she wasn't Lily and she didn't need to reminded, especially not by the only boy she'd ever kissed. (Even if she didn't exactly feel the way she was supposed to about him…)

"I don't want to offend you or anything," he said quickly, probably having caught the forlorn look on her face. "You're really great and nice and really sweet—probably a hell of a lot sweeter than Lily, anyway—but it's not like I wanted it this way," he finished pleadingly.

Rose stared at him for a long time, deliberating about how she felt about this new, unexpected development. The lily wilted in her hand. "So do you love her, Lorcan?" she asked softly, charming the tired-looking lily back into a rose.

He nodded fiercely. "But I don't really want to," he added, "I don't know. It's all so confusing. I just know—I know how she makes me feel and I know everyone else makes me feel. It's so hard to explain, like explaining magic to Muggles…it would seem too surreal, too strange and unimaginable to most people."

"Oh, I don't know," Rose said, "I think we've all felt that way about someone." She thought to her own feelings concerning a certain oblivious, Quidditch-obsessed Slytherin who was _quite _Scorpius-like…

"You don't understand," Lorcan said, voice full of conviction. "You can't understand what this feels like, to watch her with Malfoy."

"Don't I?" she asked lightly. "I think it makes me feel the way you do, seeing her with Scorpius," Rose told him.

He blinked at her words, and then studied her for a long moment. Comprehension finally dawned in his eyes; he inhaled sharply. "You? _You?_ I thought it was just Malfoy…" he muttered, examining her. "Of course," he murmured.

"You thought it was just Malfoy _what?" _she asked sharply, unable to contain her need to know.

"I thought it was just Malfoy who was in love with you, not that you were in love with him too," Lorcan said matter-of-factly, as if he hadn't just made Rose's heart leap into her throat.

Rose felt her eyes widen before she felt her knees buckle. Hanging on for dear life on a barrel of hissing Snapping Turtles (Candy), she gasped, "_What?" _

Lorcan gave her a disparaging look. "Don't you see the way he looks at you? Like someone handed him all his bloody dirty dreams on a platter and told him to have at it."

"_What?" _Rose repeated, unable to come up with anything more sophisticated. A complicated chain of emotions was exploding inside of Rose; from trepidation to ecstasy to joy, it all jumbled up in her head. Her chest suddenly felt like it was going to burst.

"I thought dating you might trigger something from Malfoy, might make the prick finally see what the hell he really feels. God, what an oblivious bastard," Lorcan rolled his eyes here.

Rose, impulsively blurting out whatever she thought as usual, yelped defensively, "Hey! He's not a bastard." She didn't even care about the fact that Lorcan had just outright told her he was using her; she was too preoccupied with the idea that Scorpius might return her feelings.

Lorcan raised both his eyebrows and nodded. Rose finally loosened her grip on the Snapping Turtle Candies; one of them snapped at her fingers indignantly because she'd been squeezing it against the barrel so tightly. "So I'm right," Lorcan said smugly.

"About what?" she demanded.

"The sad fact that you love him, and he loves you, and you're dating different people. _And _you're getting in my—and Lily's—way." Lorcan looked pissed off.

Rose narrowed her eyes. "What do you know about love, Lorcan?" she asked him, annoyed. What if he was just getting her hopes up? What if Scorpius had no feelings towards her whatsoever—it certainly wasn't like he'd ever given her any indication that he did.

"What do I know? I know more than you and Malfoy, that's for sure," he said. "At least I'm making an attempt to get who I want."

"I'm not making an attempt because I know I've got to _move on," _Rose said angrily.

"You're both so _blind! _At least I know Lily's playing hard-to-get. What are the two of you doing, denying your feelings and 'moving on'?" He scoffed. "Haven't you ever taken a look at how Malfoy was drooling when he saw you today?"

"Wha—no," Rose said quickly, "He thinks I'm just a friend."

"Yeah, he thinks you're just a friend—a friend he'd really like to do," Lorcan muttered derisively. Rose wondered if Lorcan was telling the truth or if he was just an excellent actor.

Suddenly, Lorcan grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him. She raised an eyebrow; hadn't they just established that he definitely wasn't interested in her? The next moment, he hissed, "They're here."

Rose didn't need to ask who _they _were; she leaned in closer to Lorcan. She felt like she was acting in a silly play, but she kept her mouth shut. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they walked away from the door, acting nonchalantly, browsing aisle after aisle of sweets. At one point, Lorcan pretended to get down on one knee with a box of chocolates, eliciting some soft sighs from the female customers and a rather awesome glare from Scorpius.

Rose watched him carefully from the corner of her eye. His arm was slung haphazardly, almost awkwardly, over Lily's tensed shoulders; she was watching Lorcan on his knee with intense fervour. Rose gave Lorcan a wide smile, never having imagined she'd be a better actress than Lily.

Lorcan returned the smile and winked at her. He got up and resumed his position at his side. "This is ridiculous," he whispered, irritation showing through his eyes, which had been twinkling so prettily just a few seconds ago.

"I know," Rose replied, although she was having more fun than Lorcan. It felt really, really good to see Lily angry and Scorpius jealous, however immoral or unkind or whatever it was. She glanced surreptitiously behind them to see Lily and Scorpius, tarnished golden couple, trailing them, arguing hotly about something.

Rose hid her smile behind a box of Acid Pops.


	10. At Long Last

**A/N: Hi everyone! Happy holidays—this is my present to you! I've had countless exams (by countless, I mean I can no longer count them with my fingers, because recently that seems to be all I can count up to) to write AND I now have been informed that I have carpal tunnel syndrome, so it's taken a while to get this all up. I apologize for the long delay! **

Rose had always been the type of steady once-and-forever kind of girl. She considered it one of her least attractive attributes, her inability to bloody move on from one person. It had been years since she'd first met Scorpius. Their relationship had progressed from strangers to friends to pseudo-siblings, but it had never gone where she wanted and she'd known since long ago that she needed to, no matter how hard it was, to shift her obstinate heart from one person to the next.

It seemed, though, even as she walked down the picturesque street with Lorcan Scamander, probably looking very much like a fairy tale, that she was distracted by the distraught expression that had been on Scorpius's face.

What was bothering him so? What is it Lily's recent behaviour? Was he really so thick as to believe that Lily would change her games for him?

Lorcan's hand was clasped tightly around hers. It was a little too tight, a little suffocating. He, too, seemed on edge. His blue, blue eyes darted up and down the street, scanning for something, and he only ever glanced at her distractedly.

Ever since they'd left the candy shop, leaving Lily and Scorpius standing jealously in the distance, Lorcan had been distracted. She couldn't say that she wasn't, though, and so she didn't complain. She wondered what had spurred Lorcan's whirlwind attraction to her again but decided she didn't care, not when it made Score look at her like he'd never seen her before.

"Do you think she loves him?" Lorcan asked suddenly.

"What?" Rose said, dazed. She turned to Lorcan, who was looking terribly perplexed.

"Lily. Do you think she loves that self-interested ass?"

Rose felt the immediate need to tell Lorcan that Score was absolutely _not _a self-interested ass, that if he was calling Score that then maybe he should consider his own self-interested-ass-ness, but she held her tongue. "Lily doesn't love men, Lorcan, Lily likes them and then she leaves them." Rose peered at Lorcan for his reaction to her blunt words.

Lorcan only looked more troubled. "She can't love him. He's Draco Malfoy's _son. _He's a Death Eater's _grandson."_

Rose frowned deeply. "If you can't get past your prejudices, you're no better—"

"Lily could do so much better," Lorcan said, voice so full of contempt that Rose would have laughed if she hadn't had a sudden flashback to a bad Muggle movie she'd watched with her mother last year. She forgot the title but remembered clearly the jealous male lead, who had spent the entire time chasing after a supermodel like an idiot.

He had said "_she could do so much better" _in the exact same tone as Lorcan, who now looked off into the distance with the same angry gaze. Rose had a sudden revelation and felt stupid for not having realized it before—then again, everybody said she was good at work and at school but no one ever said she was good at life.

She had been right to believe that Lorcan had ulterior motives in wanting to see her. But she could use this to her advantage. It wasn't like she had genuine feelings for Lorcan and she knew now, with a solid certainty, that it wasn't like Lorcan had feelings for her. But she had feelings for Score, and what she had seen today buoyed her hopes of him returning those feelings—if only she could push him to see how he felt.

And Lorcan was the best way she had of doing that. Rose felt almost like she was deceiving Score, but she felt no remorse: she had waited long enough for him to open his own eyes and now it was up to her to open them for him.

With this thought, she gripped Lorcan's hand a little tighter and walked with more determination in her step. With this thought, someone began to shout her name from behind her.

"_Rose! Rose!" _It was faint at first, but definite. She turned slowly to see Scorpius dashing towards her. It was a sight to see, Score's blonde hair glinting in the setting sunlight like spun gold and his tall form racing towards her.

Her heart kicked spastically in her chest. She gulped. He skidded to a stop in front of her, hair tossed back from the run. He breathed frantically and had a crazed look in his eyes, as if he was about to do something reckless and he didn't give a damn.

He took her hand with an almost violent urgency and pulled her towards him. Lorcan dropped her other hand fast. Rose saw Lily strolling along from behind, slowly, like she didn't have a care in the world. A sense of unease washed through Rose. What stupid, dangerous thing was Scorpius about to do—and what were the repercussions going to be?

Rose looked at Scorpius expectantly, anxiously reaching for her wand in case she had to do some damage control. And then Scorpius took a breath and leaned in, and then before she knew it his lips were on hers and she couldn't breathe.

The first moment was frozen in time, though heat seared at her mouth. She was blindsided and she was sure that in that moment, even her heart stopped for a beat.

And then the moment was over and Score's lips were coaxing hers and his scent was permeating her senses and it was better than anything she could have ever imagined. Those proverbial fireworks swam in her vision like the sparks that seemed to be going off in her veins. It was like somebody had taken all her blood and replaced it with Firewhisky that scorched away her inhibitions and her fears and allowed her to finally tell Score—albeit maybe not with words—how she felt.

Her arms wound tightly around his neck of their own accord, although she had to stand on tiptoe to do it. His wound around her waist and she was suddenly aware of the fact that she was tiny, inside of huge, compared to him. Somehow they pressed together so tightly she could feel her body smashed up against his and still his smell, the smell of honey and safety and home, clouded her senses.

It was bliss. She was floating, she was sure it—or maybe she'd had a lot of Felix Felicis, she was sure of it. Maybe this was all a dream, but it felt too real, too stunning, her heart beating too fast in her chest, for it to be just a dream. She was lost in the sensation, in the delirious deliciousness of it all—he tasted of something unbearably sweet and wickedly addictive. She could not understand, for the life of her, why she hadn't just done this years ago.

She could feel his heart beating rapidly in tandem with hers. At this moment, she thoroughly exalted whichever idiot had come up with Quidditch, because she knew it was the endless hours of Quidditch practice that had left Score with the perfect muscles her fingers skimmed now.

She was just about to lean in a little closer, feel a little bit more, when suddenly indignant cries came from all around.

"OI! THAT'S MY SISTER!" Hugo.  
"OI! THAT'S MY COUSIN!" Al.  
"OI! THAT'S MY—WELL, SHE'S RELATED TO ME!" Who knew who this was?  
"OI! YOU'RE DATING _MY _SISTER!" Merlin, Al again.

Rose felt something skim the side of her face and realized someone had thrown a jinx at Scorpius. She pushed him out of the way and pushed him down before someone threw an _Avada Kedavara _at him. He stared back up at her, lips swollen, eyes full of unsaid words.

**Please review, everybody! :) It'd make my holiday. Also, is this chapter even believable? I was editing it and realized that it's a little trite and cliche? (I just got so excited for Rose and Score that I couldn't resist and couldn't torture them for any longer!)**


	11. Confessions

**A/N: I am so addicted to this story, now that I've got some time to write! ****I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! Thank you to everybody who reviewed, your reviews are greatly appreciated! **

Chaos roared around him. Scorpius was the target of a lot of hexes and jinxes and curses, but instead of scrambling for his wand all he could do was watch Rose, who had spun away from him after a fleeting look, and now was casting a huge shield charm over them.

When she was done and satisfied that none of her family's spells could penetrate the shield, she silenced her family with a well-aimed and powerful _Silencio. _He pushed himself up, took out his wand, and strengthened her shield charm wordlessly.

Al and Hugo, as well as several other male Weasleys, had taken to making obscene hand gestures at him. He saw Lorcan Scamander looking pleased with himself from one corner of his eye and Lily looking right pissed in another.

Silently, he and Rose seemed to agree that it was best to get away from everybody else that moment, and since she had yet to turn seventeen and he had in May, he offered her his arm.

She gripped it so tightly he thought he'd never feel it again. He Apparated them to the very edge of Hogwarts' grounds, where there was nobody to see them or make attempts on his life. They started to walk towards the lake, again agreeing to without words. The tension in the air was so palpable it felt choking.

When they finally settled on the banks of the lake, he forced himself to look at her. She looked frightened, and he blamed himself for that. He hadn't really been thinking, too hell-bent on _acting _before it was too late, before Scamander stole her away for good. He had felt like he was losing her, like she was slipping away from him and he needed to pull her back to him.

The jealousy had burnt at him like a roaring fire. It had smouldered away all pretences and all his apprehensions and all his common sense, leaving him solely with the desire to get back what was _his—_not that he'd ever tell Rose he considered her "his", on account of how he liked his head where it was.

So he'd run after her and Scamander, just wanting to talk to her, just wanting to prove that her friendship meant everything to him. But when he'd finally caught up to her and she'd turned around to face him, he'd lost it. There was Rose, the same Rose, but she was so _different, _too. It was like he'd never seen her before. Her bright red hair, ten shades brighter than her relatives', burned like a fiery halo around her head and her features, which just yesterday had seemed so familiar and ordinary, somehow beckoned exotically to him.

And god, her lips—with some shiny pink gloss on them and the sun beating down, they had been irresistible. Pink and full and sweet. Before he knew it they were shamelessly going at it in the middle of the street, her date and his girlfriend and all their friends and family watching on. And he hadn't given a damn, not when it was Rose who was pressed up against him and those curves he'd been drooling on about in his dreams were actually _there _and it just felt so damn right he didn't stop to consider his stupidity.

"Why did you do that, Score?" Rose asked.

It was so characteristic of her to ask such a thing. Rose, always wondering _why _and _how _and never considering whether or not she wanted to know the answer.

He turned to look at her. Her hair was now fanned out behind her in a brilliant, dazzling red veil, as the wind coming off the lake whipped their robes into crazy patterns. The sun was setting and lit her eyes ablaze.

Years ago, this place had been torn apart by war and killing, but now it was calm and beautiful. Maybe it had been calm and beautiful then, too, but its beauty had been ignored by the people coming and going, too distracted by meaningless things to notice. The same way he'd been distracted by so many of life's meaningless side-shows to see Rose and all that she meant to him.

Had he screwed it all up with his impulsiveness and inability to control those things the Muggle textbooks called "hormones"? Rose stared at him, waiting for an answer.

"I—I," he paused. He wasn't quite sure what to say, how to say anything, wasn't quite sure what the overbearing feelings taking over his head and the thing in his chest were called. He thought about his parents and Mr. and Mrs. Potter and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and how they seemed to belong like he and Rose.

Was this _love? _Surely not. Surely the unconditional love everybody exalted, talked about all the time, daydreamed of and wished for, couldn't be something so ordinary? Was it the feeling of assuredness and safety and tranquility he had in Rose's presence, as if it didn't matter what happened as long as she was there?

Scorpius swallowed. "I don't really know, Rose," he finally said. "I just—you were with Scamander, and I was thinking about how—how it's been like you've just been slipping away ever since we started seventh year and how I couldn't let you and how beautiful you looked in the sunlight and how I didn't want Scamander to be the one who kissed you, because believe me, he definitely would have wanted to if he had seen you in that moment like I did—"

Rose tilted her head, sighed, and put her face in her hands. "Oh, Score," she said, and for a moment his heart dropped to somewhere below his stomach in fear that she was going to tell him he was being ridiculous, and that she just wanted to be friends, but then she looks up with a smile he hasn't seen in a long time. It's the smile she used to give him when he would take her up on his broom and promise her he wouldn't let her fall and it's the smile she has when she aces a test and it's the smile that tells him she's absurdly and resolutely happy.

She walked towards him, and suddenly, as she came towards him with her familiar freckles, bright red hair and warm, warm eyes, he was slammed in the face with the realization that they've grown up. They are no longer the little kids who wildly ran around the Potters' backyard, screaming and blowing things up accidentally. They are no longer the pretentious little preteens competing for better grades and no longer angsty teenagers lost in themselves. They're just Rose and Scorpius now, finding each other after they'd lost focus.

She wordlessly wraps her arms around him. The smell—her elusive, light smell that haunts his Amortentia in Potions class, envelopes him. She smells of the honeysuckle that he knows grows outside her bedroom window and of roasted marshmallows and of _home, _of something that is a part of him.

"I love you, Score. I always have," she whispered in his ear, and the words made his eyes widen and his heart spurt into a wild race. He felt her lips touch the side of his face lightly and his skin burnt there.

With her confession, he realized that what he had been pondering before—love, unconditional love and all of its messy implications—was exactly what he has felt all these years. But love, at least the kind of love that he has for Rose, is subtle and it builds and builds until one day it pounces on you with frightening strength. He felt like he had been hit in the gut with something, like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

She stepped back from him, out of their tentative embrace. "But you're with Lily, Score, and you shouldn't have done that today. Al and Hugo will want your blood."

He winced and didn't deny that he was scared of being hunted down by her many, many relatives. "I don't want to think about it. Please don't make me."

Rose tilted her head again; it's what she does when she's thinking. "Although, on the bright side, Score, Lily doesn't give a damn about you." She frowned after she said that and quickly tried to correct herself. "Sorry, I didn't mean that, it came out all wrong, I always saying the wrong thing—I just meant, she, well, um…do you love Lily, Score? Right now, I really hope you don't."

"I thought I loved Lily," he admitted slowly. He touched her hand lightly. "I know you always think you say the wrong thing at the wrong time, Rose, but you're always honest, you know that? And I'd prefer that over anything else, and so I'm going to be honest with you now. I thought that Lily was perfect for me. And on the surface, she was, but I blew up a table when I saw Scamander _kiss _you when I've heard dozens of guys talking about how much they wanted to _do _Lily and I barely blinked…I guess that's a pretty big sign, huh?" Scorpius laughed awkwardly, inwardly unable to believe how stupid he's been. "Lily is great, Rose. She's beautiful and smart and funny and charming, but she's also selfish and immature and more often than not, unkind. But you—you're better than great. And I'm an idiot, because it's taken me way too long to see that."

Rose raised her eyebrows. "Well, I'm not going to argue with you about the idiot clause, but I thought you thought Lily was perfect. Beyond perfect."

"I did," he admitted slowly. "But nobody is perfect." He reached out and took her hand, which somehow in the last seven years has become so much smaller than his. She looked at him beseechingly, waiting for his next words. "You're not perfect, but all the things that make you imperfect make you perfect for me."

She sat there for a long moment after he said that. Then she smiled, squeezed his hand and said, "I didn't think you were capable of saying romantic crap, Score."

"I didn't either," he said, "But that's because I'm not saying it for the sake of saying it or to get you into bed. I mean it."

"Can you prove your romantic crap?" she asked him quietly. The sunlight glinted off the lake and reflected on her face at that moment, and he wondered how it was he'd missed her for seven whole years when she was more beautiful than anything he'd ever seen.

He kissed her at that moment, and he was overwhelmed by a heady mix of paralyzing emotions and need and something so intoxicating he was pretty sure that if someone took Rose away from him now he would have to be admitted to St. Mungo's for insanity.

But she broke away stubbornly. His head basically imploded. "You can't kiss your way out of this," she said sharply. "Listen to me, Scorpius. I've loved since that time you beat me at Transfiguration in First year. That's a long time, Score, if you're just messing with me—"

"I love you," he said desperately, voice cracking at the end. "And I'm sorry. I've wasted so much time." He leaned in and held her head in his hands. "I'm sorry I'm an idiot and I'm sorry I've needed so much time, but I love you so much that it hurts and that I will willingly go back and face your crazy family—"

"Are you sure?" she cut him off. "You said you loved Lily. Because I love you so much that if you're just messing with me now, I'm pretty sure I'll be first in history to die of heartbreak. If you're not sure, Score, I will make sure you die a long and painful death too, preferably at the hand of Uncle Harry's death stick wand thingy…"

Merlin, that was hard to hear. _Are you sure you love me? _Given his past with her, though, he didn't blame her. He laughed weakly, though, because it made him relieved to hear her say _I love you _again. It made everything seem right with the world.

**Thanks for reading, and please review! Reviews are fuel for stories. I swear. :D **


	12. Sparks and Stupefy

**A/N: Thank you to everybody who reviewed! In the last chapter, I made a computing error (math is death); Rose is indeed supposed to be seventeen already. Sorry about that! I hope you like this chapter—and as, always, please review! Also, can anybody spot the Anne of Green Gables reference in this chapter? (Gilbert Blythe is love like math is death.) **

Rose was sure that she had died and was now being treated to some sort of beautiful afterlife where all her mortal dreams came true. Maybe she had fallen off that broomstick after all and had plummeted to her untimely death. Maybe the Blonde Seeker God in front of her was more a mirage of her imagination than reality.

That would make more sense than reality, seeing as how he was spouting details about her that he loved like a sappy Muggle movie. She could hardly believe her ears, but it all seemed to be real—as real as the vast lake and the setting sun and the wind ruffling at her hair.

She desperately wanted to believe him, but she was reluctant to do so. Figment of her imagination or not, he had been—up to half an hour ago—dating her cousin, and hadn't exactly been enamoured with her for the last seven years.

Still, it was difficult to refuse Scorpius and his big eyes and his utterly adorable qualities. She knew him better than he knew himself, and she had always known when he lied to her. She could see that, unless he had suddenly learnt how to lie properly in the last half-hour, he wasn't lying to her.

But he had believed that he'd loved Lily, too. He hadn't been lying about loving Lily; he really thought he had loved her. And so, even if he thought he loved her now, what would stop him from smashing her heart up into little pieces when somebody better came along—and Rose was sure that somebody would, because who wanted to date a neurotic control freak redhead for the rest of their life?

She swallowed. The question she'd asked him hung in the air: _are you sure? _Scorpius only stared back at her, with this goofy, offset look in his eyes as he contemplated something.

Finally, he said, with a smile full of promise, "I'm positive, Rosie-Posie. Positive." The resoluteness and absolute conviction in his voice made her feel a little better.

She smiled at the nickname she'd hated so much when Al had come up with it. She'd sneered something along the likes of "oh, you're so original" at Al. Knowing she hated it, Al made sure the name stuck. _Rosie-Posie._

He smiled, too, at the name. "Rosie-Posie is better than Carrots, don't you think?" he asked her cheerily. He seemed happy; way too happy for a guy who was about to massacred by her family. Score leaned in and kissed her. She was glad that they had decided to sit, because if she had been standing she would have collapsed when her knees buckled.

"Did you want me to prove it?" he asked her when they broke apart. She was reeling and floating and flying, so it took her a while to figure out what he was saying.

She laughed. "How are you going to prove it, Score?"

He took his wand out and delicately touched it to hers for a long moment. Suddenly, brilliant red sparks flew from the tips of their wands spontaneously and floated around in the air, making it shimmer with a strange iridescence. It was a breathtaking display of magic, but she wondered what kind of silly spell had he used for that—probably one of Uncle George's Love Spell things.

He grinned at her. "I haven't done any accidental magic since I was nine, but that day with the table—remember that?" She nodded. "Yeah, that was purely accidental. I wanted to hit Scamander, but apparently settled for blowing that poor table. One minute I wanted to take my fist and put it in his face, and the next the table was flying around in pieces. I'm pretty sure if you ever put me in that situation again, I might blow something bigger up."

She tilted her head, thinking about this new piece of information. She had been very perplexed as to why he had blown that table up—but she'd put it down to him being impatient to get their attention. She couldn't, for the life of her, get rid of the happy feeling bursting out of her chest at that moment. He touched his wand to hers again, and the sparks flew like mad once again. "My mum and dad showed this to me when I was eight, and had a huge crush on the next door neighbour's daughter." She raised her eyebrows. "Relax," he said with an easy grin, "She's ten years older than we are and married with two kids. Anyway, about our wands."

Rose took his wand and stubbornly touched it to hers, trying to do what he had with no success. He laughed and took his wand back. "I thought it was a silly fairy tale for a long time," he said, "But I guess not. My mum told me that when I grew up and really fell in love, if I took my wand and touched it to hers—whoever I happened to love so much—just right, beautiful fireworks would come out of our wands." He pressed the tip of his birch wand to her elm one, and this time a rainbow myriad of colours flamed from the tips. Rose tried hard to place what exactly was flying from their wands' tips; it wasn't quite solid or liquid. They appeared to be blooming flashes of light, dancing in front of her eyes before they streaked wildly around her and Scorpius. Scorpius continued his story. "My mum touched her wand to my dad's, and then golden sparks flew out from their wands." He smiled at her. "I mean, at the time, I thought it was pretty gross and all, 'cause my parents started kissing after that, but hey. I guess it's not so bad after all."

She tried, once again, to make the sparks fly from their wands, with no avail. He grinned. "Rose Weasley can't figure a spell out, huh?" he asked teasingly.

"No, I will figure it out," she said obstinately, madly jabbing her wand at his.

He flicked his wand and instantly, another rainbow of colours flew from their wands. "The trick," he whispered, as they watched the colours dance, "Is that you have to think about the other person when you touch your wands together, think hard and remember everything you love about them. The colour of the sparks will reflect what you're thinking." He paused and suddenly flushed red. Rose's eyes widened. Scorpius never got embarrassed about anything. Then he started to speak again, "Like those red sparks—a minute ago I was thinking about how I love you and how your shirt is, ahem, really, um, _tight _and how I really wanted, um," he winced and seemed to decide that it was not a wise thing to say what he had been thinking. "Please don't hit me," he said pleadingly, eyes shut.

She was sure her jaw had fallen off gaping at him. She looked down self-consciously and glanced at the white blouse Lily had bought for her "as an attempt to save" Rose's "miserable fashion sense", after Aunt Ginny had insisted that Lily and Rose spend some time "bonding". It was rather low-cut…she hadn't thought that Score had noticed, what with Lily's much better outfit. She felt…inanely flattered, and insanely blown away by the magic he had just shown her. She had never heard of such a thing, this wonderful spark between their wands. "Um," she murmured. "I'm not going to hit you," she said, and took a chance. "I'm glad you finally noticed." Then she kissed him fiercely, and he returned the favour.

When they finally had to breathe, Scorpius held her tightly against him. "How come nobody else has ever shown me this whole spark thing?" she asked him curiously, her head on his shoulder.

"No one else can see them," he said. "Just you and me, and anyone or anything that is the direct product of our love." He smiled. "I mean, I think knowing about that scarred me for life, knowing my parents—Merlin's socks, that's gross, thinking about being a product of their love. Few people know about the wand thing anyway, and those who do probably don't want to tell their children because it's disturbing to talk to your children about, uh, them being a consequence of certain actions." He grinned. "Guess my parents figured I was already so messed up it didn't matter if they messed me up a little more."

Rose looked miffed. "I can't believe my parents never told me," she muttered.

"Maybe they don't know," Score suggested gently. He looked down at her. "But now you know. I tried it with Lily, but she thought it was stupid and it never worked anyhow. I wrote the whole thing off as a fairytale, but now I know better. I love you."

It gave her an odd thrill to hear him say it, like he'd said it their entire lives. He said it so easily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She grinned at the thought. So maybe he did mean what he said, maybe he meant everything, maybe all this time she'd spent so helplessly in love with him hadn't been so helpless at all.

She smiled. He smiled back. She had never felt more content or at peace.

Suddenly, a male voice—she'd reckon the voice of a Potter—shouted _Stupefy _and a red streak of light blindsided her and hit Scorpius square in the chest before she could put up a defensive spell. Scorpius didn't even try to stop it; he looked resigned to his fate. He gave her a small smile and didn't look surprised in the least as the spell knocked him out and he hit the ground.

**Please review, everybody. I feel like a fish-monger (or rather virtual-review-monger) every time I say that, but really, again, reviews are fuel for this story. **


	13. Confrontation

**A/N: Family confrontation time! Also, reader beware, I do not recommend repeating certain words in this chapter in front of parental units, as I accidentally let one slip today and was insanely embarrassed by my male Parental Unit in front of a crowd of **_**very**_** attractive college-lacrosse-playing boys. (And now I will slink into a corner and cry about such lost opportunities.)**

Rose swallowed, and anger flooded her veins. She was going to _hurt _her idiot family. While she appreciated their terrible attempt at protecting her, they were going about it in a horrific way.

Al led the pack of them—and they were honestly a _pack, _a pack of rabid-looking red-and-jet-black-headed monsters. All their wands were drawn. Al, though he looked like a carbon copy of young Uncle Harry, had inherited Ronald Weasley's habit of turning his ears into flaming red balls of fire when he was angry. Right now, Al's ears could have toasted marshmallows.

Al, Fred, Louis, Hugo and even freaking _James _(who had _graduated already, for Merlin's sake!) _were there, all wands drawn. Al must have really reigned in the troops for this one. Rose swore she saw Roxanne and Molly in the back, probably just wanting to hex Score a bit for so thoroughly beating Ravenclaw in the last Quidditch game.

She stared at them coming in the distance, and decided she need backup. She turned around swiftly and muttered the counter-spell to _Stupefy, _and Scorpius come round drowsily. As he opened his eyes, she turned back to her family furiously. "Are you lot _crazy?" _she demanded loudly, looking at Scorpius's slowly-moving form worriedly. "What the hell is your problem?"

"We're just gonna hex the arsehole like he deserves," James said, as if it were an _honourable _thing to do rather than a right stupid thing.

"You will do no such thing," Rose said, annoyed. "I am Head Girl, and I _will _give you all a month of detention if you so much as point your wands in Score's direction again—'' She shook her own wand menacingly in front of them. Scorpius groaned something that sounded like _no _from behind her.

"Oh, please, sis. It'll be worth it. And we'll use our fists instead of our wands, if it makes a difference to you," Hugo said angrily. "Who the hell does he think he is, the git, cheating on Lily—with _you, _of all people! And what in the name of Merlin were you doing with Lorcan Scamander, Rosie?" he demanded.

Then Al ranted at Hugo, "Rose wants to snog Scorpius, you idiot, that's the _problem_! She's out of her mind, wants to date the cheating prick," and then he punched Hugo's arm, quite hard. "Bugger off, kid, let us deal with this one."

"I am not a _kid, _and Lily is my cousin and the prick cheated on her with _my sister!"_

"Lily's _our_ sister!" Al and James yelled back at him.

"WILL YOU ALL PLEASE SHUT YOUR GIANT TRAPS AND LISTEN TO _ME _FOR A SECOND?" Rose had magnified her voice magically. They all look at her like they were the ones hit with _Stupefy _instead of Scorpius. She jabbed her wand at each of them in turn—as she did so, she saw Scorpius get to his feet dizzily in the corner of her eye.

"Merlin's soggy hat, she looks like Aunt Hermione when she does that," James whimpered pathetically. Rose snorted. That was so typical of her professional Qudditch player cousin, to say stuff like "Merlin's soggy hat", though normally he didn't fear "awkward little Rosie" at all. She figured the only reason he was so scared of her today was that he must be the one who had hexed Scorpius.

First, she pointed her wand at Al; he was the ringleader. "You—shut up about Scorpius being an arse. He's your best friend, you know him well—you think he would do this if Lily loved him, if Lily at least _liked _him?" Al looked sufficiently guilty, but still angry. She saw him glare over at Scorpius. She sighed. "Listen, Al, I know you want the best for me and Lily. I may not be a social butterfly, but I'm not a socially defunct idiot, either, okay? I can handle my own now." She paused and shook her head. "You've probably known how I feel about Score for a long time, Al, so please don't ruin this for me when he's just realized that he loves me too."

Al swallowed. "But, he's dating Lily," he said feebly.

"Yeah, and Lily cheats on him every week, doesn't even _like _him anymore, and couldn't care less if she hurt him." She knew that Al knew it was true; she knew that everybody else knew it was true. They might be big-headed and brash, her family, but they were not stupid or blind. She wondered if Scorpius had known, or if she had just rather brutally informed him of Lily's cheating.

She saw Al cave in—she saw the surrender in his eyes. Immediately she turned to James, wand firmly under his chin. His eyes widened real quick and he backed away nervously from her. "Rosie-Posie, calm down—"

"_You're _the git, you _Stupefied _Scorpius!" she yelled childishly at him. He had definitely hexed Scorpius. There would be no other reason for her lovable but idiotic cousin to fear her so. Well, that, and the fact that Aunt Ginny had taught Rose the proper way to do a Bat-Boogey Hex this summer. "What in the name of _Merlin's soggy hat," _she said mockingly, "Are you doing here anyway, Jamie? I thought you had some big game to play, some stupid, flouncy-haired, light on intelligence girl to ply with obviously false compliments so that she'll jump in the sack with you—"

"Hey!" he said defensively. "You can't insult the girls I date."

"Then don't insult the boys I date," she snapped back quickly. He, too, looked sufficiently defeated. She swore she heard Score chuckle behind her. He seemed to have finally managed to stand up straight without swaying, which was an encouraging sign--

"Fine," James muttered darkly. "But I'm not sorry about the hex."

Rose, satisfied enough with that, turned her wand to Hugo. "Hugo, I do not need you to be my keeper," she said impatiently. "_You're _the baby brother, remember? I'm the big sister."

"Yeah, but I'm your _brother, _and he—he—ew," Hugo made a face. "Why would anybody snog you when they could snog Lily, anyway?" he asked, looking both genuinely perplexed and annoyed.

"Yeah, really? Anybody who snogged Rosie would have to prepare for a lecture about safe sex right afterward. Malfoy was definitely trying to make Lily jealous, thought getting it on with Rosie would win Lily back." Roxanne—or was it Molly?—chimed in from somewhere in the back, a note of derisive humour in her voice.

James snorted loudly at this. "True," he considered. "Malfoy's probably already gotten a lecture on sexual assault by now," he laughed, and then sobered. He still glared at Scorpius and said, "Doesn't let you off the hook. You tried to use my cousin to make my sister jealous—"

Rose, though accustomed to her family's off-handed but hurtful comments about the difference between her and Lily, was still hurt by their words. It was like they thought nobody would ever want to date her just because they wanted to date her. It was like they all expected her to become a spinster.

Rose swallowed. What could she say to that? Who _would _rather snog her rather than Lily, anyway? She was the neurotic control-freak and Lily the beautiful princess—quite literally, what with being Uncle Harry's daughter and all. Her wand quavered a bit and she lowered it. "Hugo, James," she said between gritted teeth, "Shut up." She pointed at the rest of them. "Leave me alone, all of you," she said, trying the best she could to not let her hurt show.

"Relax, Rosie," James said, in a tone he probably thought was kind, but she thought was condescending. "We're just joking about the lectures." He looked wearily at her wand, which she had bravely raised again. "I suppose we can always deal with _him _some other time—"

"Fuck, just _stop talking_!" Suddenly Scorpius was yelling vehemently. James looked infuriated, Al exasperated, Hugo irritated, and the rest of them primed to attack.

"Listen to yourselves for _one fucking _ second!" Rose had never seen Scorpius, who was reluctant to get violent even on the Quidditch pitch, this angry in her life. Rose decided that Score was crazy while staring at him in shock, trying to tell him to shut up with her eyes. "You claim you _love_ Rose. You claim you want to protect her from _me," _Score was shouting, "But what the bloody hell does she have to worry about from me, when she's got you lot breaking her heart every single fucking day?"

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy, you don't know what you're saying," James said sharply, wand poised to attack.

"Yeah? D'you wanna bet your sorry ass, Potter?" Scorpius demanded, holding his own wand high. "I was prepared to take whatever crap you lot were going to give me, if you were giving me crap for Rose's sake. I was going to let you tear me from limb to limb, but I won't let you tear Rose apart, not anymore," he said. Uncle Harry would be proud of Scorpius's hero complex.

Rose looked at him in shock. She had never thought that anybody else noticed the way that her family's behaviour hurt her. Deep in her chest, her heart thudded wildly as she realized that Scorpius most definitely loved her. If he was willing to stand up to a bunch of her family because he thought they had hurt her, he was either psychologically disturbed or deeply in love with her. Or both, really.

"What are you talking about, Scorpius?" Al demanded loudly, although Rose could see the apprehension and unease dawn in Al's perceptive eyes. He glanced at her guiltily, as if he knew that Scorpius was right, and turned back to Scorpius.

Her family looked jittery now, the whole lot of them murmuring amongst themselves. Al, James, and Hugo were in a semi-circle around Scorpius, who was still yelling at them. Fred, Roxanne, and everyone else were gawking at Scorpius and whispering to each other. Rose stood beside Scorpius, her wand pointed at Al and James.

"You people all act like Lily is some priceless, shiny gem that every single person wants to steal from you—and maybe she is. Fine, whatever, you can protect Lily and put yourselves in denial about the fact that she doesn't need your protection at all. But Rose—you all _ignore _Rose unless you need help with your frigging homework!"

Hugo and Al exchanged anxious glances and James looked infuriated, but they stayed silent. Suddenly Scorpius pulled her towards him, arm around her waist almost possessively. She was glad that he had the courage to say the things to her family that she was afraid to say. She always thought they'd laugh at her, but they weren't laughing at Score. He kept talking, "And you know what? I did it too, I ignored her and refused to open my eyes, almost until it was too fucking late to do something about it—but at least I did. Haven't you all thought that maybe Rose needs your support, your stupid idea of protection, more than Lily? Haven't you all thought that maybe she _minds _all your stupid little comments, the ones that you think are _so funny _but in reality are just little darts to throw at her? Haven't you ever considered the fact that _Rose _is the only reason you lot aren't failing Charms or Potions or Merlin knows what, or the fact that Rose is the one who covers for you when you go out and do stupid stuff you don't want your parents knowing about? Haven't you all realized how much worse off you'd be without her? Haven't you thought about the fact that you owe her a lot, that you should all shut up about how amazing Lily is and tell Rose that you appreciate her sorting out your crap for you?"

Scorpius finally stopped talking. Her family fell into a tense silence and stared at him. His arm tightened around Rose's waist and he turned to her with a brilliant smile. "Anything you want to add?"

She blinked. "Um." She turned back to her family, who were, despite their careless comments, still her family. She loved them and she knew that they loved her. "Well," she said uncomfortably, looking at her shoes. "Score is being…harsh--"

"No, I'm not," he said sharply.

"Well…" she paused and looked at Al, who gave her a wane smile and nodded, surprisingly, in encouragement. She took a breath. "I guess it would be nice if you didn't act like I'm an old spinster…" she said quickly and turned away so that she wouldn't see their reaction. They all stayed silent, so she never looked. She felt lighter all of a sudden and smiled at Scorpius, who beamed at her. He started to walk towards the castle and she followed.

"I guess we're done here," she murmured quietly. "D'you want to see the Head Tower?"

Scorpius looked at her incredulously. "Do you need to ask, Rosie-Posie?" he asked her. His smile was so bright she beamed at him. They left her family gaping.

**A/N: Review, everyone! Please vote: Rose and Scorpius...to shag or not to shag in the Head Tower? ;) **


	14. Love, Love, Love

**A/N: Hello everybody! Sorry for the super, super long delay. School's been nuts for months, ever since I skipped three weeks of it to go on a tour of Europe. (Which, by the way, does wonders for restoring artistic insight and curing writer's block.) Thank you guys very, very, very, very much for sticking with the story! We are approaching the end of this story, and fluff is on the way. Please read and review! Enjoy. **

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Sometimes Rose wondered if her heart wanted to work against her. Right now, it was sprinting up her throat until she pushed it back, and then it would just sprint right back up. She wondered if Score could hear its frantic beating.

"Rose?"

"Yes," she answered decisively, a lot more decisively than she felt. They scurried up the steps to the magnificent castle they were calling home for the last year.

"Did you mind that whole speech thing? I mean, I feel kind of stupid now that I think about it—I mean, they're your family, I figure if you wanted to yell at them you would have—" he blabbered on in this vein.

She stopped on one of the steps, forcing him to stop with her. His hair was dishevelled and his tie loosened; he looked awkward speaking of such a subject, but adorable all the same. She touched his arm lightly. "Thank you, Score, for doing what I've been too afraid to do." She smiled. "I've wanted to say it for a long time, but I thought they'd just laugh at me for not being able to take a joke."

"Sometimes a joke isn't funny," Score said honestly.

At that point, Rose fell a little more in love with him. She kissed him and laughed at the feeling of fireworks in her stomach. When they needed to breathe, he said, "I can't believe I've been so stupid for so long. You realize I've missed three, four years of this?" He kissed her again.

"Ah, well," she murmured, "You've had Lily." She said it just to test him.

Scorpius, though awful with things involving sensitivity, wasn't stupid. His eyebrows shot upwards. "What's that supposed to suggest?"

She shrugged lightly. "Well, you've had Lily and I've had—"

He turned to stare at her sharply. "You've _had?" _He repeated impatiently.

She smiled. She liked that she could make Scorpius jealous with a few words. Lily never had. "Just Lorcan, Score, just Lorcan." She paused, tilted her head. "Well, I suppose, and you, in my dreams." She laughed.

He looked relieved and grinned. "Well, Lily kind of tasted like strawberry lip gloss all the time. After a while, it was like eating glitter—which, for your information, is something that tastes like the tuff Muggles make plastic bags out of—off her lips, if it makes you feel better—"

She cringed. "No, Score, just stop that sentence right there—"

"Well, you taste like honey, and shortbread cookies, and home—" he looked eager and earnest.

She scoffed, although it made her light headed to hear those words. "Now you're just making stuff up—"

Score grinned at her. "Do you want to bet?"

"Not really," she murmured, taking his hand. "You have missed out on a rather lot, Scorpius Malfoy."

"Yes, well, forgive me; I'm a guy. It takes me a while to get stuff sometimes. You're gonna have to live with it."

She laughed, and found that she was laughing increasingly often. The giddy feeling of being filled up with champagne rose through her. "I'll let it go this time, but only this time." They continued towards the castle, now hopping up the steps to the grand doors.

"Thanks. Eternally grateful." He rolled his eyes. "Your family is so overbearing."

"But they're lovable, all the same," she murmured. "Rather like you, don't you think?"

"I've been everything but overbearing," he replied quickly, swinging open the heavy wooden door. Usually she opened the door when they walked together, what with her mother's insistence that women should never rely on men for anything (her father always grumbled at this). But it made her feel a little silly, but good, that he did so this time.

"Yeah, you're not overbearing? So what was that blowing-up-a-table stunt this morning?"

"That was...under extraordinary circumstances," he mumbled embarrassedly. "So you noticed it, huh?"

"It was kind of hard to miss," she said, as they turned a corner and she led him away from his dormitory by the hand. He gazed around the castle for a moment.

"Where're we going, Rose?"

She smiled at him in what she hoped was a mysterious manner. "Patience, Mr. Malfoy. Good things come to those who wait." She pulled him towards the Head Tower—she figured that Lorcan must still be in Hogsmeade. He didn't look like he'd cared all that much that Scorpius had randomly kissed her in the street. And even if he decided to come back, she'd put heavy silencing charms on her half of the dorm.

"I'm sick of waiting, and good things have already come to me," Score whined like a little boy who'd been denied dessert. She hid her silly little smile at the thought.

"Well, you'll have to wait a little longer."

He groaned, but followed her. She led him up a winding, spindly staircase that most students didn't even know existed. At the top, there was a circular chamber made entirely from brick. Its roof rose to a point and its burgundy walls, with a distinct lack of windows, were rotating.

"Where are we?" he asked her, glancing around in wonderment.

She smirked. "Unlike the Potter children, you haven't had the benefit of growing up with the Marauder's Map..." she tapped her wand in a rapid and complicated rhythm against the wall. Immediately, the walls stopped rotating; instead, a few bricks flew to form a grandiose keystone arch in front of Rose.

"_amorem quaerebam et nunc inveni," _she murmured to the keystone. Suddenly, a gleaming wooden door appeared and swung open for them. She felt silly all over again for the password. She and Lorcan—and Headmistress McGonagall—were the only people who could open this door. The keystone was charmed to recognize who each of them was and to open when they revealed something important about themselves.

Rose's little facts and revelations were perpetually in Latin. Rose was fond of Latin, and putting them in a dead language would save her from the inevitable embarrassment that would ensue if anybody ever found out about what she said in her passwords. Today the password had been "_I was looking for love and now I've found it". How appropriate_, she thought, with the strangest urge to grin like an idiot.

Scorpius stared at her, and she bit back a smirk at the dumbfounded expression on his face. She waved him into their dorm, decorated with both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw colours. There was a small common room and a small kitchen area. There was a huge fireplace, with a branch of Everlasting Fire in the middle; on either side of the fireplace, a regal corridor stood, with either Rose's house colours or Lorcan's above it.

"Grandiose, isn't it?" she asked giddily.

"Unbelievably ostentatious," Scorpius replied wryly, hanging onto her hand. "If I'd known that the Heads get this, I'd have tried harder to keep myself out of detention."

"Try as you might, you wouldn't have been able to," she teased him, and led him down the stone corridor, heartbeat roaring in her ears. She had waited so long for Scorpius to love her back, and now that he did she could barely believe it.

She tapped her bedroom door open with her wand, and Scorpius stepped inside her sanctuary. It was organized chaos. Though there were books strewn everywhere, quills and papers, she could have told you what page every book was open to. There wasn't much on her walls; no posters of Quidditch stars or rock stars, no colourful snippets of news articles or letters from friends. Just a single photo of Rose's entire family, and another of Al and Rose and Scorpius, years ago, on Score's first Christmas at the Potters'. (The first time his parents had actually let him go; it was the third time he'd asked. The first time he asked, his dad nearly had a coronary.)

He laughed at the photo. "My mom laughed at my dad for a week when I got home after that, teasing him about how my entire family must be rolling over in their graves."

Rose smiled, but noted the brief flash of unease that passed through his eyes when he said that. She briefly touched his shoulder. "You're not defined by your family, you know? The kids here gave you a hard time about who you were related to at first, I remember."

He shrugged nonchalantly, clearly indicating he didn't want to talk much about it. "My dad always said that facing it early would make me stronger in the end. I guess it did. And the Potter kids were warned by their parents to be kind, and the ground you people walk on is worshipped here, so most people came round."

"Guess you're just so charming they couldn't resist," she said sarcastically, but there was no denying the truth in her words, sarcastic or not.

He grinned at her, and her heart danced a few beats of a sweet little dance at the sight of that unbridled, joyful smile. "Guess I am," he told her, and then he kissed her.

This time, it was a rushed kiss, fuelled by something she didn't have a name before. This time, it was unlike any other kiss she'd ever had; it wasn't sweet or patient or gentle. But now, this kiss, it was a little rougher, a little more passionate, and infinitely more irresistible. She was so lost in the sensation of it. They were in a foreign world, lit by the burning desire between them. The real world was blurred out in the face of more important things.

"Have I told you that I love you yet?" he was murmuring against her lips, and a giddy spurt of dizzy happiness added to her euphoria.

"You might have mentioned it once or twice," she replied, lips curving at the thought. "But that's okay, because I love you too."

There was a sort of urgency to their kissing now. She didn't know what the urgency was for, but she knew that she felt it—the heavy rush of something uncontrollable in her veins, the irresistible urge to press herself closer, closer, closer still, to Score—and she knew that he felt it too.

His breathing was starting to sound very loud, as was hers. Somehow, she did not remember when her back had become pressed against the wall or when he'd become pressed up against her. She was gasping for hair, grasping at his shoulders, grappling with the fact that this was Scorpius.

He slanted his mouth over hers, and their kiss deepened in a delightfully, deliciously frightening way, like being hurtled to soaring heights on a Muggle roller coaster. Her heart was fluttering, just like her stomach...She was vaguely aware that this was all too fast, too hurried, but the thought was stifled by the feel of Score's lips against hers.

And then, suddenly, so fast she barely had time to register it, he had pulled away. She blinked several times, trying to regain some sort of balance or understanding of the situation. She failed utterly and stared at Scorpius, who was now sitting on her bed, head in his hands.

"I'm sorry," he was saying quickly, and he wasn't looking at her, and she could have sworn that it was an _embarrassed _flush rising at the collar of his shirt... "I didn't mean to lose control quite so easily."

"What?" she asked confusedly, surprised her voice was still working. She managed a weak laugh at the sight of the red working its way up his neck.

He drew a breath, as if gathering courage, and looked up with her with eyes of heartbreaking remorse. "I didn't mean to—I mean, I guess I did mean to, but I didn't mean to _pressure_ you—"

Pressure? _Pressure? _Pressure!

Suddenly, she understood what he was on about.

And this time, her laugh escaped from her raucously. It rang through the air, and she wondered when the last time she had been so happy was. Maybe never. She took a seat next to him and poked him playfully. "Maybe I was pressuring you, ever thought of that?" she teased him, but somewhere inside she felt a peaceful reassurance. He wouldn't rush her into anything until she was ready.

He managed a small chuckle at her teasing, but turned to her, and said, "I love you, Rose." His voice was more serious than she'd ever heard it before. "I respect you too much to lie to you and tell you that I've never done this before." She swallowed. That was reality, and she accepted it; it wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be to hear it. He continued, softly, "I don't want to rush this, Rose. I want this to be the kind of thing...I want this to be the kind of thing that doesn't even _exist_, not in movies or books or song. I want this to be the kind of thing there are no words for, that is just between you and me. I want this to be...so all-encompassing that when people glare at us for being too affectionate in public, we'll look at each and laugh and know that they'll never understand. I want to make up for all these years I've been stupid. I want..."

She placed a finger to his lips. He was speaking so fast she could just barely keep up, but she was damn glad that she could. He looked at her imperiously, as if saying _I am not finished, and you _will _listen to the rest of this, _but she replaced her finger with her lips and gave him a quick kiss.

"I know," she told him, with a smile. "I know." She took his hand. "We have all the time we'll ever want to be all those things, Scorpius. If you tell me all of this now what are you going to tell me tomorrow, or next week, or next month?"

"Or at our fiftieth anniversary," he replied, with a smile of his own.

"Or that," she conceded with a chuckle. He squeezed her hand, and she leaned into him.

"All the time we'll ever want, huh?" he asked her softly.

"Yup," she chirped happily.

"I love you. I haven't said it enough."

"I love you too, but I agree that you haven't said it enough." She gave him a sweet smile and he laughed.

Together, they drifted back into the lovely, ethereal world that theirs, and theirs alone.

FIN.

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****A/N: THAT'S A WRAP! There might be a fluffy epilogue, maybe a future-fic, but I have yet to make up my mind. (Hint, it depends on what the readers want.) Oh, and just a random little side fact: the Latin bit is actual, grammatically correct Latin. ****I lurrrrve Classics, what can I say? (Hey, JK Rowling majored in Classics.) **

**MANY, MANY, MANY BUNDLES OF THANK-YOUS to everybody who read and reviewed (and was patient with my erratic updates!). I hope the story was as fun to read as it was to write. **


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